


River

by Sam_Haine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hydra (Marvel), Love, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Marvel References, Pain, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Psychological Torture, SHIELD, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-02-09 17:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18642385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine
Summary: Steve has to deal with the fallout of the Civil War. They all do. He's never been one to feel sorry for himself but he knows when he needs to own up to his mistakes. Tony's not feeling so good about anything at the moment and Bucky, well, Bucky's recovering. He's finally remembering bits and pieces. The only thing is, will he remember the new Steve? Or the old one?





	1. Am I Supposed To Be Happy?

**Author's Note:**

> Some of this may seem OOC for MANY of the characters in here, as they're portrayed a bit differently in the MCU. Some of their traits are also sourced from the comics.

Am I Supposed To Be Happy? 

 

_There's blood on my hands..._

A growl. 

_This has happened before..._

Sharpened cries and screams grow louder. 

_I- I'm not- I can't do this..._

A deafening explosion.

 _No-!_

"Sergeant Barnes?" 

He wakes with a short gasp, his gray-blue eyes wide and scared. The cold, frigid air hits him like an ice-bath and he can't help the violent shivers that wrack his tired body. A sharp smell- like menthol crystal- hits his nose and he immediately scrunches it in disgust. It's not that he hates the smell, but rather that he's suddenly shocked at all the new stimuli attacking his rusty senses. A white light shines directly into his eyes and he has to blink a couple times to get used to his vision. 

He notices the silvery walls and the overhead chandelier lights and a memory flashes within him. There are purple holographic screens of glowing cross-sections of machines and other electronic pieces. A strange type of text annotates the images and for a second he thinks it's Russian. And that sparks an unpleasant feeling in his gut. 

"Sergeant Barnes?" 

He snaps around to glare at the woman who stands before him, a beige, leather-skinned book in her dainty hands. Her dark eyes stare at him passively though he feels the weight behind them and it makes him uneasy. _She knows him,_ is his first observation. Then he thinks a little further, _She knows who I am._ And the last thought is daunting.

 _She knows what I've done._

"Easy Sergeant. You know me." She says easily, with a calmness that's much too cool to be real. He doesn't believe in it at once. 

"Who the hell are you?" He growls and flinches at how rough and scary his voice sounds. To the woman's credit, she doesn't blink or move an inch. 

"You know me." She repeats, "My name is Shuri. You've spent the past couple days in my lab- mostly sleeping- but otherwise you've been a great lab partner." 

He frowns. _Hard._

"What?" 

"It's okay Sergeant. These things take time and we have plenty of that at the moment." 

He's still glaring at her as she whisks away some of the holograms, resting her leather bound book atop a white desk. Her hair is done up in two cute buns that sit atop her head like Mickey ears, but there's nothing cute about her. She reminds him distinctly of doctors and surgeons he'd once fought against. If this was anything like what he'd experienced, it would not bode well for the young girl. He could tell she was smart, by the way she typed and the way she paced around the lab with an organised familiarity. Her jaw was set as she frowned quietly at one of the purple holograms. 

He glances down at his form, with nothing else better to do as he realises that he was probably stuck there and not in any imminent danger. The white cotton tank top stretches across his broad chest, skin pale but scarred as his eyes travel further down to his left. For some reason, he doesn't feel the loss of his bionic arm, swallowing sadly at the bandaged stump in place. Behind his eyes burn suddenly as a scream echoes in his head. 

_Bucky!_

_No!_

"How is your head?" 

He draws back as he opens his eyes, noting how much closer the woman is now. Her orange shirt doesn't make her seen very clinical and dangerous and a little part of him is grateful for that fact. The look in her honey eyes isn't licentious either. She seems, _kind_ and patient. Almost as if she's dealing with a child. 

"I expect it feels like it's filled with cotton balls." She continues when he doesn't respond. He agrees with her there and his nose twitches a bit. He doesn't like it when people can read him so easily. Makes him feel exposed. 

"How about we eat? I've got cheese, crackers and your favourite: plums." She tells him happily, offering a platter of everything she just listed. 

A memory of eating the juicy, thin-skinned fruits and chuckling softly flits through his head like a fairy and his guard drops a little. He takes a deep breath and swallows nervously. 

_He's been here before..._

"I've been here before." He repeats softly, eyes closing tightly before he opens them again. 

The woman smiles kindly at him and he sees no malice or taunt there. 

"Yes you have. Three months to be exact." 

His brain draws a blank. 

_Three months?_

She sees the look in his face and urges him to take a cracker. 

"You're Shuri..." He murmurs, munching on the cracker. It's sweet. 

Shuri nods. "Yes." 

"Captain America... he brought me here."

Shuri nods again, noting the way he said _Captain America_ and not 'Steve'. 

"It's alright. I've only just begun treating you. Undoing all the work that was forced into your head will take a while. But I promise you, _I will_ get it out of you." She promises as if it was her one true quest. His eyes blink in quick succession before he takes a ripe plum between his fingers. He bites into it curiously and whimpers a little at how sweet and juicy it is. 

"I- ...I don't remember much- I'm sorry." He reveals sadly, his hair hanging over his face as he lowers his gaze. 

"There is no need for apologies Sergeant Barnes. We're friends here." She reassures him with a warm, summery smile. 

It's almost as if his brain clicks, like a puzzle fitting into place. 

He smiles softly at her, "Told you, it's Bucky." 

 

............................

 

"How is he?" 

"Shuri has reported a relapse, level five." 

"...Oh."

The Captain's voice is quiet, and small, quite unlike the man he'd once met a couple months ago. A lot of things had changed since that time, and the King felt somewhat contented and uneasy by it. He'd vowed to be a different King; a better one that wouldn't make the same mistakes as his father did. And so, he'd let go of his anger and had agreed to healing not only Sergeant Barnes, but also himself. Only, it was taking Barnes a little longer to be fixed.

_Understandably._

But, even though Barnes had been the one experimented on and manipulated by HYDRA, T'Challa couldn't help but feel for the Captain, Steve Rogers. He'd lost so much, considering he'd lived the rest of his life believing that his best friend had died falling off that train. And then waking up seventy years later to everyone else dying, only to learn that his best friend had been captured by HYDRA and turned into some kind of killing machine that awoke every five years or so to wreak havoc on the planet. If his observations were accurate, Steve still had a haunted kind of look in his blue eyes that he _thought_ was hidden quite well. 

Hell, he'd spent the three months since their return to Wakanda milling about, trying to make himself useful to anyone who would spare him a second glance. Not that his people were unfriendly, but rather they were extremely busy ever since that UN conference in Vienna. A few of the soldiers humoured the "poor white boy" but others like some in the Dora Milaje simply told him to rest and stay out of the way. He wasn't allowed in Shuri's lab for fear of triggering the soldier and T'Challa could tell that it hurt but he admired the way Steve schooled his features to hide his true emotions. 

He'd do anything for Bucky. 

_Which is precisely why he was in this mess anyway._

"Have you been contacted by Stark? Or Ms Romanoff at least?" He asks quietly, monitoring a training session going on in the barracks. He'd asked Steve to tag along with him, a small kindness to save the blonde from his isolation. Steve shakes his head, clear blue eyes peering past the glass window into the training grounds. 

"I don't think he will. Try to call me, that is. Natasha's in the wind currently. It's best if she lays low at the moment. All her covers aren't shatter resistant now. And Ross is on a manhunt." 

T'Challa nods. "And Sam?" 

Steve's face crumples a bit at that and he looks away from the barracks to frown down at his shoes. 

"Under house arrest. He can't go home to see his family." He mutters sadly, feeling the burning shame crash over him. 

"Do not blame yourself Captain. Zemo is the instigator in this great tragedy. I saw through him, that man." T'Challa replies crossly, wincing as one of the rookies gets body-slammed by M'Baku. Steve shakes his head in denial and looks away. 

"I just- ..." He starts but stops himself before he comes undone. 

"General Ross shares the same place as Zemo in the grand scheme of things. Even I can see through the Accords." The King sighs tiredly. This entire situation was a mess from beginning to end and he knew it. He wished with all his heart that his father had been around for him to consult with but as fate would have it, he was on his own. 

"I'm gonna have to go back _some_ time. Can't hide here forever." Steve says bitterly, scratching at some ghost itch on his forearm. He seems so out of place without his shield that T'Challa almost wishes he could make another one for him. But then he reminds himself with a little twinge of shame, that Steve was _so much more_ than the fearless Captain America. Often times, people forgot to separate the myth from the man and it was extremely dehumanizing. And the only one who suffered from that misconception was Steve. 

"Returning to your home will mean incarceration." The wise King points out, arms clasped Behind his back as they begin to walk down the hallway. 

"I know." Steve nods. "But I can't let Sam and Natasha and the others pay for my mistakes." 

"Standing up for what you believe in is not a mistake Steven. I know sometimes it may seem that way, but believe me, it's what matters in the end." 

Steve wants to agree with that, he really does. But that stubborn part of him can't help but take the blame for everything. _He_ was the one who couldn't agree on the Sokovia Accords. _He_ was the one who chose to take sides which eventually split the Avengers in half. _He_ was the one who lied to Tony about his parents' death. About Howard... And _he_ was the one who almost killed Tony when he defended Bucky and took that shield to his arc reactor. It was high time he admitted his sins to himself; _he_ was the reason for the Avengers breaking up. 

He had to fix this. 

"Bucky always said I was too stupid not to runaway from a fight. Guess he always knew me better than I knew myself." He sighs, nodding in acknowledgement as Okoye enters the conference room behind them. 

"Barnes will take time to heal. I will have Shuri provide me with the latest updates on her progress with his treatment. You of course, are always welcome to stay here in Wakanda until you decide to leave." 

Okoye announces something in their native tongue to T'Challa whose face falls into seriousness. 

Steve frowns. "What is it?" 

"We've just received word from the World court." The King reveals quietly. "Okoye?" 

The Warrior General nods sharply and sets her dark eyes on Steve. They're not unkind, Steve realizes, but rather empathetic. 

"General Ross has made another warrant for your arrest. His demands specify on taking you in, the moment you step foot on American soil. If- ...if your return appears hostile, he has ordered that you be immediately shot on sight." 

To Steve's ultimate credit, he doesn't flinch or change his expression in any way. He's know of Ross's general hate for him and people like him. Steve had been one of the most prominent opponents of his over-ambitious peace Accords, so it only made sense for Ross to order his arrest and potential death. 

"We will go with you, Captain. You will have our support-" T'Challa begins when Steve is silent for some time. But the blonde shakes his head. 

"I'm grateful for your mercy and understanding King T'Challa. But I can't ask you to do this. You've already sacrificed the sanctity of your Kingdom for me and Bucky. I couldn't ask you to do so once again." 

Okoye looks mildly relieved while T'Challa just seems irritated that he can't help. 

"I insist-"

"Please. You've faced enough repercussions for keeping me here. This is... something I need to do, alone." 

T'Challa finally nods in concession and Steve isn't sure that he's happy with the man finally agreeing with him. Its lile that stupid feeling, when you finally get what you want but now you don't want it. 

_But he has to face his demons some way or the other._

He had to pay for his mistakes. 

 

.......................

 

The two pills go down terribly, like two huge boulders of worry going down a very small passage. 

_Migraine._

He's never felt so low in his lif- well, no- scratch that. He _has_ felt like this before and it's never been good news for him. That feeling of raw pain, _betrayal_ , thick like coagulated blood, cold and slimy in his veins. It's all he ever feels these days, he thinks, sloshing back a sip of water. The toll these past few weeks had taken on his mind and body was immense. _Punishing._ And every time he thought about _that day,_ he felt like throwing up. 

So he did the most _him_ thing possible and buried himself in his work. He was, after all, in charge of the Iron Man suit, and the Iron Man was an Avenger. And the Avengers had a duty and responsibility to protect the world from harm. At least, _that's what he thought their job was._ Now, all the Avengers seemed to be doing was avoiding each other until it was strictly necessary for them to communicate with each other. 

Clint at least had come around since the last time they saw each other. The man had been filled with insidious rage at being locked away in a literal prison in the ocean; away from his family. But after a well-placed plea from Tony and his legal team, he'd gotten the archer off the hook with the exception of house arrest. Clint had cursed his name to the Gods and back but Tony didn't mind. He deserved it. Well- he's not quite sure _who_ was really at fault here but he was man enough to face his mistakes. 

Signing those Accords was a _huge_ one. 

At least he knew that now, but the _other thing?_

Now that was something he wasn't too sure about. 

Then came that feeling again...

 _Betrayal..._

_"But he's my friend."_

Another surge of feeling in his already hollowed out chest. 

_"So was I."_

Signing heavily, he shakes his head, glancing over at the appraisals on his holographic screens. One of them displays an image of Natasha, her hair dark auburn and her green eyes piercing. She's been a ghost story lately, having been radio silent for more than a month with no clues as to where and when she'd disappeared off the grid. Tony knows she's safe though, having more faith in her to keep it together than he did for himself. She was classy and strong like that. 

Then there was Sam, who's image pops up on the screen, a red tick next to his name that boasts, 'HEAVY SURVEILLANCE.' It was an especially nasty move made by Ross, who'd wanted to entice Steve's return by antagonizing his closest ally and friend. The General had been particularly harsh for that reason, never letting Sam go to see his family or the other Avengers. And Tony had been warned away by Fury for fear of making the situation worse. If Tony let Sam go, the Avengers would be compromised as none of them could be trusted by the federal government now. Tony had their trust, and he needed that to keep all of the heroes safe- _Steve included._

But it killed him anyway, seeing how Sam paced his apartment hour after hour, day after day, looking for a way to help Steve. Some forgiving part of Tony felt reassured by the idea that at least Steve still had allies in all of this madness. And that someone still cared. But he quickly pushed those thoughts to the side. He's seen what his trust made people do. 

"Boss, you've got an incoming call from an encrypted line." FRIDAY suddenly announces, her voice echoing in the quiet room. 

Tony frowns hard. Files of _any_ nature was never a problem for his operating system and programming. 

"Patch it in." He commands the AI, who immediately connects the call. There's static at first on the other end that he takes as hesitance. 

"Who is this?" 

_"Tony."_

It's Natasha's voice. 

Tony almost gasps in shock and relief but he holds it together. 

"Ms Romanoff." He replies after a while, his headache now kicking up to a sixty. 

"Turn on the news. It's Rogers." She says simply but he can hear the deathly serious tone in her voice. He pulls up another holographic screen and clicks on the news. 

_And there it was..._

The damning headlines he never thought he'd ever see in a million years: 'CAPTAIN AMERICA DETAINED BY U.S MILITARY AT JFK.' 

His eyes are staring, shocked at the scene unfolding before him but he can't seem to register it in his brain. All he sees is an entire base of armed soldiers circling a single person, semi-automatics locked and loaded. And there he is... Steve 'Captain America' Rogers standing in the midst of it all, in a simple navy blue shirt and khakis. 

No helmet. 

No shield. 

And no fight. 

His face is pale though he doesn't look scared as he raises his hands up in response to the military general ordering him to show his hands. _Captain America never uses weapons_ , Tony thinks with passing interest, as Steve stares quietly at all the people around him. He seems so... _small_ now, as his hands are roughly brought behind his back, a pair of black, military grade handcuffs slapped onto his wrists. Meek and insignificant as everyone around him makes a spectacle of the whole scene. 

The great _Captain America_ was now reduced to nothing but a lowly criminal, by the very people he'd sacrificed _everything_ for.


	2. Public Enemy Number 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's never been on the other side of the law before. Or has he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I've always wanted to take a deeper look into Steve's other side, where he's vulnerable and alone. Left to deal with his true emotions.

Public Enemy Number 1

 

"Ross, what the hell is this?" Natasha growls, glaring at the holographic image of the General before her. 

They're all gathered in the common work room of the tower. Tony, Natasha, Rhodey, Sam and Clint who'd been requested personally by Ross and Wanda. Vision was currently indisposed due to his work with SHIELD but that was beside the point. The team was   
together again but this time, it wasn't to fight some great alien threat. No, it was to discuss an apparent enemy of the state. 

Captain America. 

"Where is he?" Wanda demands, her amber eyes trained on Ross as if she were trying to read his mind. 

"Rogers is currently being held at the Raft Institution for his crimes." Ross answers nonchalantly, like that was besides the point. 

"This is bullshit Ross and you know it." Natasha scathes, her eyes scanning Ross's features, searching for the lie. "Let him go." 

"Ms Romanoff, Steven Rogers is a criminal. Not only has he committed treason which is the highest offense punishable by law; but Rogers has also broken international law." Ross explains smugly. 

"That's not true. He never signed the Sokovia Accords." Rhodey counters, standing firm with his arms folded despite being semi-paralyzed. It throws Ross off his loop for a few seconds before he responds. 

"Just because he didn't doesn't mean the rules don't apply to him, Colonel. Majority voted for the Accords and all Rogers had to do was act thusly. He and his crooked friends refused to do so and each bore the full brunt of the law. All _except_ Rogers. Guess he realized that and decided to turn himself in." 

"Wait- he turned himself in?" Clint echoes, speaking for the first time that day. 

Ross nods but still and that cross look on his face. "But before he did, he made sure to put in some orders, like all terrorists do. I've had to expunge all the criminal charges brought against those of you who assisted him in his treason." 

Sam frowns, jaw clenching hard.

"You're a piece of shit Ross." 

The Secretary scoffs at that and shakes his head. "I can take away your freedom in seconds if you keep up with that, Mr Wilson." 

"That's enough outta you." Tony finally interrupts, hoping his totally bored facade is solid. It's almost punishing the way everyone turns around to look at him, as if he would be the final authority on what happened to Rogers. _He wasn't._ The Sokovia Accords took care of that. He sighed, eyes too tired from staring at Ross's ugly mug for over an hour now.

"He might seem like a criminal to you right now but believe me, he's not. The only thing Rogers did wrong was protect an assassin of HYDRA." 

He pointedly ignores the incensed glares Natasha and Sam send him. 

"Truth is Secretary, your Accords are a bunch of crap disguised under your agenda to gag us. We protect this planet, keep it safe from threats that _your government_ always seems to be involved in. And whether you like it or not, Rogers is one of those protectors. He won't be staying in the Raft like some degenerate criminal." 

Ross narrows his eyes at him, his smug grin fading into a straight line. He can tell by Tony's tone that he's serious. And despite his jaundiced views of the man, he had to remember that _he_ was still a Stark. Policy and law could only talk for so long before money and charisma did. 

He clears his throat haughtily. "I will consider Rogers' accommodations with the world court. The council has also requested that all Avengers remain at the tower for the next few days." 

The hologram disperses into glowing blue dust before disappearing completely, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence. 

Natasha looks murderous but otherwise remains standing there with her arms folded, probably thinking of a way to sneak into the Raft to rescue Steve. Sam seems to be on par with that thought as he glares out the huge glass window at the bustling city outside. The elephant in the room is obviously Tony's stance on the whole issue with Steve. No one's been the same after their little conflict at the airport. And no one knew exactly what had happened between Tony and Steve and Bucky but they knew it didn't end pretty. Tony had come back with a cracked arc reactor and Steve and Bucky had exiled themselves to the kingdom of Wakanda. And now Steve had been arrested and thrown into prison. 

The whole thing was a mess. 

"You have to fix this, only you can." Wanda suddenly says to him, her voice clear in the thickening silence of the room. 

Tony frowns at her, then looks away. "There isn't much to do. Isn't much I _can_ do. Ross has already made up his mind."

"So you're going to watch him suffer?" She demands, her face screwed up in agony and anger, no doubt directed at him. Because he was the one who locked her in her room. He was the reason she had gotten locked in the very same prison Steve was now rotting in. 

"I didn't say that-" He starts but is cut off by Natasha's firm voice. 

"Interference by _any_ of us will compromise Steve's safety _and_ his position with Ross." 

That seems to calm Wanda down a bit but Tony still feels responsible for her grief. For all of their grief. 

"Wanda, I'm sorry." He sighs, Wanda's stare softening to something much more sympathetic. She shakes her head almost immediately. 

"No. I am. I should not have snapped at you. This entire situation has been... bizarre for all of us. I shouldn't blame you." 

He can feel Natasha's eyes on him, gauging his response and his expressions. He keeps it all under though, and offers the scarlet haired witch a genuine grin. 

"I'd take it anyway." 

"We all know you would." Rhodey cuts in with much needed humour, patting Tony on the shoulder. 

"Look, this past month has been crap. I should know I mean- ...look at me. But that's in the past. I know it seems like I'm asking for a lot here and I know it's highly unlikely that things will go back to the way they were. But, we need to focus on what matters. And that's getting Steve out of the Raft. He doesn't belong there."

 _Not really,_ Tony thinks and almost smacks himself in the face for that nasty thought. He could pretend like the greatest showman to ever grace a stage but deep down, he knew that sooner or later his resentment towards Steve would arise. The fact that Steve chose Bucky over him, and left him for dead with blood on his lips and a broken arc reactor, sat dark and bitter in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't ignore it. 

So, save Steve? Yes. 

_But forgive Steve?_ Maybe, 

-...never. 

 

....................

 

The Raft was a blur the last time he saw it. 

A flash of lights, dark corridors and isolated cells enclosed with bars made of plasma. Yeah, he didn't have the luxury of time to scout it all out like the trained soldier he was. But now? Oh, now he had all the time in the world to memorize the place in his head and map it within his mind's eye. The Raft was in fact a well-facilitated institution made for dangerous criminals, with superhuman potential. 

_Threats to humanity._

It's where he'd been taken three days ago, after that whole arrest at the airport. He was certain he'd never felt so raw and exposed in his life, kneeling with his hands in the air as he was detained roughly by the U.S military, all the while bright flashing camera lights clicked away in his face. And reporters, hounding him by the dozens, screaming at him to say something. Demanding answer from him as to why he'd betrayed his country, by refusing to sign a peace treaty and escaping with one of the most wanted assassins in the world to Wakanda. 

At first, he'd silently wished that T'Challa had gone along with him, if only for support. Because at the moment, he was isolated in the worst ways possible. No one had come to visit him yet. And none of the officers patrolling the hallways were keen on letting him know anything. So he was pretty much a sitting duck. But then, a small part of him felt relieved that T'Challa had agreed to stay behind in Wakanda. At least the King would be spared the humiliation and degradation Steve had faced after being roughly detained. 

He'd been stripped of his khakis and shirt, forced to wear the dark blue prison overalls of the Raft. He wasn't even given shoes and instead they'd given him white socks that barely made it up his ankles. And those weren't even the ugly part of his arrest. No. Before they'd forced him into his prison garb, he'd been made to strip before a dozen or so Raft correctional officers, was hosed down with ice water like some animal and had to put on his overalls in front of them, all the while his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

_How had things gotten so bad?_

He didn't have a second to think about that because he was roughly shoved into cell number 42, the plasma bars zooming back across the doorway if his cell. An officer tossed three granola bars at him and a tiny bottle of water and then left. His high metabolism from the serum had demanded he eat all the granola bars in one go so, he did. The water however, was precious so he saved some and only took a few sips. Then he sat down on the floor- the bed was taken out of the room it seemed- back against the wall and hung his head. 

He'd expected a harsh return no doubt, so he didn't get to be shocked at how roughly he'd been treated. He'd directly disobeyed Ross, went against the Accords, let down his teammates and friends and had betrayed Tony. If anything, he _deserved_ everything he'd gotten so far, he thought. It was his mistakes and Sam, Clint, Natasha and Scott were paying for it. Closing his eyes, he reminded himself of why he'd returned in the first place. 

_To make things right._

He wasn't innocent in all of the chaos that had ensued the world these past few months. Hell, in the past few _decades_ if he was being honest with himself. Bucky was one of his first slip ups, he thinks as tears well up in his eyes. They're still closed so the wetness clings to his lashes, soaking them, making them heavy. Bucky had always been there for him, protecting his sorry ass without so much as a complaint leaving his lips. And then when the day came for Steve to protect Bucky... he'd failed. And failed _miserably_ at that. 

Bucky would never have gone on that train if he hadn't suggested it. Or more like demanded it, really. Because Bucky had a soft spot for him and he knew that. _"You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"_ He took his best guy to war and returned without him. Left him for dead as HYDRA picked up his broken, bloodied body, and remade him into a murderer. All the while Steve remained a hero in the eyes of the world. 

But he was no hero. 

He couldn't even save his relationship with Tony. 

_I did it to protect you... I swear._

God, he knew this was one thing he couldn't come back from. He'd almost _killed_ Tony during that fight. The details are still somewhat blurry in his head but all he remembers I the sinking feeling he got when Tony blasted off Bucky's arm. It was his metal arm, and one that could be replaced no doubt. But actually seeing it- ...the way Bucky's eyes widened in shock... the kind of shock that looked like PTSD from what HYDRA had done to him. And then hearing Bucky's scream... well, that awoke something in Steve. 

But he never meant to do what he did. It was a panicked response. He couldn't- no, _wouldn't_ let Bucky die again. He had to protect him. If Tony had only backed off- 

"Feeling sorry for ourselves are we?" 

Steve jerks out of his thoughts and glares up at Secretary Ross with electric blue eyes. He doesn't wipe away his tears, not wanting to bring attention to them. Ross stares down at him with an air of superiority and entitlement, probably extremely proud of himself for being the one to take down Captain America. He's accompanied by at least two dozen SHIELD officers armed to the teeth with every possible destabilizer weapon Steve could think of. 

"We're gonna have a little chat, Rogers. You and me." Ross informs him while the correctional officer deactivates the plasma bars on his cell. 

"Alone? Or are you bringing along your reinforcements?" Steve replies calmly, slowly getting up from his position on the floor. He's hit by a taser gun in the neck before he could stand properly, crashing to his knees in agony. He grits his teeth, shaking off the stinging pain that reverberates throughout his body. The guards roughly clamp heavy, industrial magnetic cuffs on his wrists before dragging him out of the cell. 

"Well," Ross replies with a sneer, " _Someone_ has to drag your body down to where we're going." 

Steve blacks out within seconds after the second taser is administered. 

 

***

 

The slap shouldn't sting as hard as it did, but he hisses out loud anyway. It violently jolts him out of unconsciousness and leaves him feeling sick and disoriented. He blinks a couple of times, his vision blurry and fading. He's in a different room that's for sure; the lights are much brighter and there's white walls instead of dark silver chrome. A quickly glance around tells him that it's some kind of interrogation slash torture room. 

From his vantage point, he can see a mirror behind Ross, so large that it almost fills up the upper half of the wall it's on. Steve would bet his life that the mirror was an illusive one, completely transparent on the other side. Aside from the mirror, ugly machines and equipment stood eerily quiet in the large room. He's bound to a sort of adjustable chair, kinda like the ones at a dentist's office. Black straps made of some kind of leather bit into his skin, rubbing it red and raw. He was stripped again, left only in his underwear. A part of him felt angry by the violation but he didn't give in to his emotions. 

He needed to deal with Ross with his head clear. 

"What is this?" He demands instead, going the predictable route. 

Ross paces the floor in front of him with his hands clasped behind his back, papers in hand. He offers Steve a slimy smile. 

"Just an evaluation to ensure your body hasn't been enhanced by Wakandan technology; taps, scoping devices... _serums._ You know about enhancements don't you?" 

Steve bites his tongue, fixing Ross with a cool stare. "The people of Wakanda want nothing to do with your politics." 

"Oh, I'm sure. But after that little stunt your war buddy pulled in Vienna, I'm not quite inclined to believe that Wakanda has forgotten and forgiven us." 

Steve flares at the mention of Bucky, his eyes darkening. "King T'Challa has been very gracious to accept Bucky into his kingdom for treatment. And seeing as Bucky was framed for King T'Chaka's murder, he's under the order and protection of Wakanda." 

Ross nods in that smug, know-it-all way that itches Steve just under the skin. 

"Of course he is. You on the other hand, now, that's a different story. You single-handedly broke up the Avengers, destroyed U.S government Intel, and tried broke an international peace policy that was designed specifically to protect innocent civilians. All for what? To prove a point?" 

"It wasn't- ...I wasn't trying to break up the Avengers. The Accords did that." Steve argues, despite having his own reservations about that whole fiasco. 

"That's not what Tony says." Ross states simply, his smile widening as he sees the guilt crash over Steve's face at the mention of Stark. 

"I- ...Tony and I... that had nothing to do with the Accords." Steve stumbles, looking down at his socked feet. There was no way he could defend himself in any capacity when the facts were staring at him right in the eye. He'd been wrong. 

_I was wrong._

"Oh but it did. That entire show at the airport was all about you not wanting to give up your precious Bucky. If you had listened to Stark, maybe the damage wouldn't be so bad. But you just had to play your self-righteous card and make things worse. Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you Rogers." 

Steve doesn't say a word. 

"I'm telling you right now, it doesn't matter that you and your friends haven't signed the Sokovia Accords. Majority rules which means you all have to adhere to international law. You're lucky I was kind enough to let Wilson and Clint off the hook." 

Steve glances up at the mention of his friends. 

"And what about Scott?" 

Ross waves a hand as if to say he shouldn't be bothered. 

"Scott Lang was under house arrest long before he was in cahoots with you." 

"So what is this then? What are yoy planning to do?" 

"Oh, we'll just be taking some samples for now." Ross answers simply, as the chair is lowered to an acceptable height and adjusted so that Steve is lying flat on his back. He starts to struggle against his bonds but it's no use. They've prepared to counter his superhuman strength it seemed. His body jerks at the whirring of the electrical motor beneath him. Two SHIELD agents completely decked off in medical garb approach him carefully, with blue gloves on their hands. 

"Your warrant was for my arrest. This isn't- this wasn't a part of the deal Ross." Steve growls, struggling to break free. 

"What deal? All you ensured was that your friends would be expunged of their criminal records and set free. You agreed to that and I did as you asked. 

"I'm clean! I- they didn't bug me!" Steve shouts as the SHIELD doctors begin preparing him for a needle. The white cotton soaked in alcohol causes his pores to raise at the coldness. 

"I'm doing this for the safety of the people of America. They need to know that they can trust you again. You need to be evaluated Steve. Remember when all those things mattered? Protecting America? Being a good soldier?" 

"No- stop!" Steve pleads but it's not enough as the thick needle sticks into the crook of his elbow. He gasps out in pain, eyes watering in shame and agony. One doctor holds him steady while the other one sets the needle before pulling upward. He attaches a long but thin rubber tube to the end of the needle, then attaches the tube to a blood bag. It's made to accommodate one whole unit of blood and Steve's panic peaks. 

"Wh- you can't- _why are you doing this?_ " He demands through gritted teeth, his voice shaky as dark, red blood begins to flow from the tube into the bag. 

"Because I can." Ross sounds deathly serious now as he looks down at Steve, his dark eyes emotionless. 

"And because I need to make an example out of you." 

Steve can feel his head go fuzzy, his vision swimming as his eyes begin to roll back. His ears sound as if they're stuff with cotton balls and his tongue goes dry, thick and heavy in his mouth. 

"I'm sending a message to every hero out there, including Fury's _precious Avengers._ No matter how strong you think you are, we will be here to stop you. By _any_ means necessary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy minhoy!


	3. White  Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is at practically everyone's mercy at the moment. He vows to take it all in stride but what will it take to break him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...

White Flag 

 

Nick Fury was... well, _furious._

He really lived up to his last name, _hell,_ Tony had said as much when he came bursting through the front door, eye-patch in hand and his coat swinging off the shoulder. 

"Shut your pie-hole Stark!" The man growls, fixing his eye-patch on properly over his damaged eye. 

The rest of the Avengers stood around the room, arms folded, faces sort of wincing from the barrage of classy insults they were about to get buried with. Fury was incensed and they had an idea about what had made him so mad. 

" _How_ the hell did this happen?! I go away for a year- _one year-_ and everyone loses their goddamn minds!" 

"Well technically-" Tony starts but Fury shushes him with a snap of his fingers. 

"Shut up Stark. You're already out of your mind. I should've had you institutionalized from the moment I found you in that donut!" 

Fury's vein in his head almost pops when Clint asks quietly, "In a what?" and Natasha quickly answers with, "A donut." 

"In my defense-" Tony starts again but Fury cuts him off _again._

"Uh- eh! Zip it! I don't got the time for your nonsense. What the hell was Rogers thinking?" 

Tony shrugs, "Well-" 

"Matter of fact, what the _hell_ were you- all of you thinking when you signed those Accords?"

"We weren't-" Clint starts but is interrupted by an irate Fury. 

"That's right, _you weren't_ thinking. None of you! I may not be the leader of this little group I created but I do expect some kind of obligatory respect. And I'm not talking bout the regular kind of respect. I'm talking about the kind of respect that requires you to call me whenever something like this mess threatens the very safety of the world, and most importantly, _yourselves._ You realize you got press-ganged into giving up your rights as Avengers, right?" 

"The world court was becoming intolerant of all the attacks caused by our very existence. I thought Ross had a point." Natasha responds bravely, not showing one ounce of fear for her mentor but clearly respecting him well enough to explain herself. 

Fury huffs disappointedly, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. 

"You all should've known better than to trust Ross. The man's name is _Thaddeus_ for Christ's sake!" 

Tony rolls his eyes tiredly. "Okay, we get it. We screwed up. But you weren't exactly available for consultation if you know what I mean." 

Fury sighs, "Okay. Well, I'm here now. Agent Hill debriefed me so I'm all about solutions at the moment. Wilson, Barton, what's going in with your records?" 

"Expunged completely." Clint answers promptly, still looking a bit pissed at being separated from his family and then having SHIELD agents at his farm, disrupting the peaceful life of his innocent family. 

"Same." Sam concedes, more saddened than angry that he hadn't been able to see his family even after his house arrest had been lifted. His own personal issues aside, he was dearly enraged at the idea of Steve being in prison like some kind of scumbag when he was anything _but_. "Any word from Hill on Steve?"

Fury shakes his head worriedly. "Zilch. And communications with Ross has been nothing but radio silence. Guess I should be glad I'm still in charge of SHIELD. That at least gives me _some_ pull around here." 

"What are you going to do?" Natasha demands, all business. 

Fury shrugs in the most passive way possible. "I don't know. I'm gonna ask for Rogers back."

"How will you do that? Steve went against the orders of the Accords." Wanda questions warily. 

Fury smiles. "He did. But the Avengers Initiative contains a lot of fine print which I'm sure _none_ of you ever read." 

Tony's the first to screw his face up in question. For Natasha, it's the exact opposite as realization dawns upon her face. 

"The Liberty Clause." She states without any other sort of explanation which leaves Tony and the others with raised eyebrows. 

Fury nods, folding his arms behind his back, regarding them all with a hint of superiority. 

"The Liberty Clause. First drafted in 1995 but included in the final proposals for the Avengers Initiative in 1997. This clause clearly states that any attempt to control the functioning of the Avengers by an outside organization, will be overridden if the overseeing General is ill informed. Now, seeing that I was never made privy to the contents or the signing of the Sokovia Accords, that means that Steve Rogers, aka. Captain America, is _still_ under the jurisdiction of the Avengers Team and it's overseeing General: me." 

It seemed as if the entire room had just let go of the breath they'd been holding ever since they'd entered it. Wanda almost cracked a relieved smile and Sam just looked ready to fly into the Raft to rescue his best friend. Clint's expression hadn't changed one bit and Natasha looked ready for a fight. 

"Then why are we still here? Let's go." She states, stepping up to the door, fierce eyes trained on Fury for any signs of doubt or hesitance. 

"Yeah. In a minute, Coulson is bringing over the Initiative files. But before anyone does _anything,_ I'm only taking two of you." 

There's a collective "What?" in response. 

"You're gonna need the entire team there in case Ross doesn't comply." Clint states matter of factly. 

"I agree. We need everyone on board in case they try to keep Steve." Wanda adds, already on her feet, fists clenched. 

"They won't. This isn't a rescue mission, it's a diplomatic exchange." Fury ensures but Natasha shoots him a worried glance. 

"We're not sure of that." She pauses to consider him intently. "But you are. What makes you so sure he's gonna just hand over Steve to us?" 

Fury gives her a solid look. "Because they know that the world still supports Captain America. Ross, in particular has to tread lightly. He's only doing this to impress the World Court, and he knows that eyes are on him." 

"I did see the protests in Brooklyn." Sam mutters crossly looking as if he wished he could've been a part of them. 

Fury frowns at the solitary figure standing in a discreet corner of the room, arms folded and chin tucked into his chest, dark brown eyes simply staring on at the commotion happening in front of him, doing nothing to intervene. If he had to guess, he would've surmised that Tony could care less about their little situation and had only cared about getting back to his lab. His constant checking of his extravagant timepiece gave away his carefree attitude. 

And it was confusing as hell. 

But then Fury gave it some thought and all his guesses led back to the Winter Soldier; or more importantly, Steve's best friend and ally in this little civil war they'd all been an unfortunate part of. He'd also read up on the files of Zemo and his beloved mission report of December 16, 1991 and so it wasn't hard to hazard a guess of what had transpired between Steve and Tony. Fury surmised that it couldn't have been pretty. 

"You seem awful quiet for someone who's always bragging about some brilliant plan." He grins but the smirk barely reaches his eye. He's sending Tony a _knowing_ glare, letting him realize that his air of pretense has been diffused. Tony doesn't really seem phased, much to his credit. He ignores the curious looks the others give him and instead focuses on Fury. 

"I'm all for it." 

"All for what?" 

Tony scoffs. "All for your plan, _genius."_

Fury shoots him a severely unimpressed look. "Really? You?" 

Tony grins but his face doesn't change it's grim expression. "Contrary to your belief, I _have_ actually read the fine print in your precious Avengers Initiative."

"Really?" Fury repeats, clearly mocking the man. 

"Oh yeah." Tony shoots back in almost the same tone. 

"Then why is Rogers still rotting away in the Raft?" 

"Because you were late. But, now you're here and you've so kindly reminded me of the freedom clause. So what were you saying about only two of us accompanying you? I'm sure Natasha's up for the task, as is Wilson so I suggest you get to that great 'diplomatic exchange' on time before nap time at the Raft daycare center." 

Tony's voice hardened out eventually, his whiskey brown eyes flashing at Fury with a sort of impatient and _angry_ undertone. The one-eyed General matches his glare head on, both men staring each other down until Fury takes a step back, calming himself. 

"Don't be so quick to get rid of me Stark. The quicker I'm out of here will be the quicker I return. And I will be returning with questions." 

"Don't bother." Tony counters coolly. "I don't have the answers for everything Fury." 

"Just make sure your lab isn't off limits when I get back." 

 

.........................

 

Steve doesn't remember much when he wakes up a couple of hours later. All he knows is that he's lying on a cold, wet tile floor, naked as the day he was born and freezing. There are dark purple, blue and red splotchy bruises strewn about on his skin in places where they'd hurt the worst. They haven't healed due to his severely weakened body. Ross had restricted his meal times to only once per day and the drastic cut back on proportion and nutrients had led to the breakdown of his body due to his extremely fast metabolic rate and the lack of food. Thanks to the serum, his body was basically eating itself from the inside out now...

_Fast._

...making the pain about a _thousand_ times worse than that of an ordinary human being. 

It had been _days_ since he'd been locked away in the Raft. And he'd tried so hard not to be bitter and devastated about it but he had slowly come to accept the fact that no one cared that he'd been locked away. Natasha was probably still on the run and Ross had probably broken his word and had kept Sam and Clint on house arrest. Fury had been AWOL for a while so he didn't expect the man to show up. And then, there was Tony. Well, he didn't really expect the man to show up for him either. He'd almost killed him, why would he now come to his rescue? 

Steve felt weak. Ross and his crooked medical personnel had taken an entire unit of his blood, leaving him shaky and disoriented. He figured it had something to do with the super-serum. Hell, Ross had built his entire career on trying to recreate Erskine's formula. Obviously to no avail. No wonder he'd wanted to get his hands on Steve for so long. It had nothing to do with peace or protecting innocents from the whims of the Avengers. It was all about getting Steve's blood, cloning it and using it to become powerful. Of course, that could just be him thinking too much into it. But at the moment, he didn't know what else to think. 

He was shivering violently against the icy surface of the tile, his lips quivering with every harsh breath he took. His hair was drenched, plastering to his head and allowing for cold droplets of water to drip down his face. The feeling is oddly reminiscent of the time he'd spent just before the plane went under the ice completely. He remembers Peggy's sad voice, remembers her pretty face on the dash; remembers them disconnecting as the nose of the plane caught the ice, glass shattering before him as he was flung back deeper into the cockpit. 

It had hurt- he was sure of that. It was almost bizarre that he hadn't had the time to recall the very moment when he went under. A lot of scientists and experts had assumed that he'd been knocked out the moment the plane hit the ice but that wasn't true at all. No. He'd spent every agonizing second gasping for breath, panicked and _crying._ He was alone, no longer America's little show monkey; so he'd allowed himself to cry as his back hit the solid steel of the plane. There was blood soaking the back of his head. He remembers ripping off his red glove to touch it... then staring at his bloodstained hand through blurry eyes. 

And he remembers feeling grateful for the fact that it was so cold, that he could feel _nothing._ Not the warmth of the blood running down the back of his head and onto his neck, not the pain of his ribs being cracked as the plane collided with another floor of ice... and certainly not the pain in his chest as he thought about those he'd be leaving behind. Peggy and her beautiful mind and the way she'd loved him unconditionally. And Bucky... _oh God,_ James and his beautiful heart and soul, who was now resting at the bottom of a ravine, dead and alone because of _him._

Steve recalls that _vividly_ because it was the thought that forced him to smile through his tears and get up, even though his body was broken and bleeding. The thought of James Buchanan Barnes made him pick up the shield one last time, got to the table in the center of the plane's bulk, where a map of America was pinned, targets for the missiles highlighted in red. He'd ripped the map off, got on it and lied down with his shield over him- the only protection he had left. Memories of him and Bucky had flashed through his head in bright colours then, tears becoming icy tracks on his cheeks. He remembers his finally thoughts just as blackness swept over the plane like a blanket. 

_I'm sorry._

*

"Get him up." A rough voice suddenly cut through his blissful silence and he curled in on himself, protecting whatever modesty he had left. Someone roughly yanks him to his feet, ignoring his pained whimpers and thrusts a dry towel at him. It isn't soft or fluffy but it keeps him warm and mostly covered and he's grateful for that. The three, armed men hustle him out of the tiled room he'd been locked in all day and into one that looks like a rudimentary dressing room, containing a full-length mirror and a single cupboard. 

"Dress. You have five minutes." One of the men orders, throwing Raft prison overalls at him, his reflexes way too slow to catch them. The guards cackle at his weak state and slam the door shut, leaving him to himself for just a few minutes. He can hear them muttering to themselves just outside. 

He picks up the overalls and considers it passively. He wasn't given any underwear which made wearing the overalls seem a daunting and uncomfortable task. Slowly he approached the mirror, at first refusing to look into his own eyes. He was sure the shame would be unbearable if he did. But the sharp rap on the door startled him and he quickly drops the gray towel. His reflection mocks him as he slips his legs into the navy blue suit, his eyes catching the dark bruises all over his body. Most of them are upper body, splotchy and painful looking around his neck, on his shoulders, _all over his back._

He's almost completely zipped up when he finally takes a glance at his face. The eyes that stare solemnly back at him are not his own, cloudy and dark with an uncharacteristic defeat. There are purple bruise-like shadows under his eyes, bringing out the red rims of his lids, like he's been crying non-stop. Several wounds marr his usually porcelain perfect face, cheeks sunken in and his jaw soft. It's like he doesn't have any more fight in him and it's devastating to say the least. 

What's worse is that he doesn't even seem to be bothered by the fact. 

He crossed a line with Tony- his _once_ closest friend and teammate. It's how he deserved to feel. 

"Five minutes are up. Come on, let's go!" The guard shouts, bursting through the door. They cuff Steve with the same industrial magnetic cuffs that they'd used earlier to wrangle him to their sick little operating room and shackled his feet. Ross was all about making him pay for his disobedience in the worst way possible. Humiliation was a huge part of his tactics and Steve just resented the man even more. 

The guards bring him to a stop at an office with an unmarked door and mirrored glass walls. They seem to be the same two-way mirror that had been in the interrogation room. Steve didn't have a good feeling about this as he was roughly shoved past the threshold as the door swung open automatically. It slams closed behind him and he has to take a few seconds to gather himself. 

"Nice to see you again, Captain." 

Steve's gaze jerks up at the sound of the familiar voice, his blue eyes wide with shock. Nick Fury was sitting at the conference table, dressed in his signature black trench and eyepatch. His arms were folded and his stare was intense as he looked away from Ross. 

"S- Sir," Steve replies weakly, a bit surprised and a bit not. Nick Fury was as mysterious as he was predictable and that made him very hard to read. Steve couldn't tell if the man was on his side or if he was on Ross's. He's been on the receiving end of Fury's compartmentalization before so he doesn't know whether to smile in relief that he's here or if to keep his guard up and play it safe. 

"Been up to some trouble have we?" Fury antagonizes and it takes everything in Steve not to clapback. Ross saves him the glory of response however. 

"Oh, believe me Director, he has. While you were gone, some of your soldiers fell out of line." 

"They're not _my_ soldiers." Fury answers quickly, giving Ross a sharp look. "But I _do_ oversee their daily to monthly functioning and maintenance. And we share a symbiotic relationship when it comes to intelligence." 

"Well, it seems your Avengers Initiative trumps the World Court's Sokovia Accords. But harboring a wanted criminal remains an international crime. In that respect, Captain America is still under the jurisdiction of the United States."

Steve frowns but remains silent as Ross addresses Fury. 

"Agreed. But he will no longer be staying at the Raft. This place is for vile bastards only and I can't believe you had the gall to put the symbol of America in here." Fury responds, his defense of Steve surprising both men in the room. And for the first time in a long time Steve has never felt so insignificant. Back in the forties when he'd first taken the serum, important decisions were made and orders were sent out without his consent or input. Now was no different he thought as he stood there, forgotten while they negotiated his freedom. 

"Very well. Captain, a word?" Ross finally says directly to him, calling him over as if he were some kind if personal assistant. Steve's eyes flick to Fury who gives him an encouraging nod. He approaches the men but stays just behind Nick, not wanting to get too close to Ross. He'd hurt Steve and the blue eyed blonde didn't trust him. 

It was as simple as that. 

"You will no longer be a resident of the Raft Institution. Your new residence has been negotiated to be at the Avengers Tower and nowhere else. You are ordered to hereby give up your apartment in Brooklyn. And though you have been spared by the constitution of the Avengers Initiative, know that the ramifications of the Sokovia Accords still stand." 

Steve doesn't meet the man's eyes when he nods, just desperate to get out of there. 

"Alright. Then it's settled. Secretary Ross, I'll be in touch." Fury states diplomatically before nodding at Steve. 

He's extremely relieved to be leaving the Raft which was an actual prison but he wasn't sure if the Tower was much better. 

_He was still public enemy number one to some people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	4. To Find A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve returns to Avengers Tower. Tony's nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was prolly the worst time to post this story since everyone's focused on Endgame.   
> :(

To Find A Home 

 

"You okay Captain?" 

_"I'm okay."_

"You sure?"

_"I'm sure."_

"They feed you?"

_"...yeah."_

Fury turns around at that, giving Steve a pointed look before turning back to the road ahead. 

"I don't think they did." 

Steve shrugs nonchalantly and tries to play it off. "You came and got me before lunch time." 

Fury rolls his eyes. "And what about breakfast?" 

Steve pauses again, blinking at his feet that were still socked. His clothes and other effects were kept by Ross, who swore he had them destroyed but Steve was sure it was just to humiliate him. Nothing worse than walking into Avengers Tower in blue prison overalls, in front of thousands of people and their brightly flashing cameras. 

"Cap?" 

Steve jerks out of his morbid thoughts, his stomach grumbling and betraying him. Fury simply grins and shakes his head. 

"Well then, let's make a stop." 

* 

They end up ordering at a McDonald's drive thru- very covert- and settle to eat their fries and burgers in the SUV. Fury is going to town on his quarter pounder while Steve quietly munches on a few fries, his stomach unable to process a lot of food because of how Ross practically starved him. Being restricted to one meal per day, for someone with his superhuman rate of metabolism, was basically an extremely slow and painful death sentence. He didn't mention that to Fury though; that or any of the things he'd had done to him whilst under Ross's custody. 

"Mm- mm! _That_ is a good ass burger." Fury exclaims heartily through a mouthful of food. Steve chuckles softly, still choking on his fries, resorting to washing it down his throat with soda. They're parked in some secluded area where there's barely any houses and mostly trees and overgrown bushes. He's in the backseat of Fury's car, obviously to hide from media vultures and potential threats, in blue overalls that are two sizes too big, his socked feet curled under him. If anyone saw him in such a sorry state, they'd never think that this was the great and heroic _Captain America._

"So you found him then?" 

_Damn._ Fury was never one to beat around the bush, Steve should've been prepared for that. 

"Who?" He asks, playing dumb. 

Fury on to him. "Barnes." He states, deadpan. 

Steve avoids the man's one eye in the rearview mirror, choosing to glare down at his fries instead. "I found him the same time everyone else did." 

Fury sighs, the crinkle of the McDonald's paper bag sounding exceedingly loud in the quiet car. "Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to trust right now, Rogers. Especially about Barnes but- ...at this point, I'm guessing you don't have a lot of allies." 

Clouded blue eyes finally look up at him in the mirror and he forces himself to turn around. 

"I only know about you not signing the Accords. And you helping Barnes escape from the authorities. But I know some crap went down between you and Stark. _Serious_ crap. And that's what tore the team apart." 

"I didn't mean to-" Steve argues but holds his tongue before he can say more. There's an inner conflict going on behind his eyes, his deep, permanent-seeming frown is evidence enough. 

Nick considers him for a hot second, noting the fresh bruises on his face and the gaunt way he holds himself up- almost as if it were a struggle. This was probably the worst he's ever seen the blonde and even he had to admit that it was an uncomfortable sight. But he wasn't heartless. 

He could see the toll this entire thing was taking on the man. 

"I'm not blaming you for breaking up the team Rogers. And you weren't responsible for Tony and the others signing those Accords. The issue with Barnes is something personal, I get it. But brainwashed or not, Barnes is still a wanted man. He still killed all those people, and the public might not be as willing as you are to let him off the hook."

"So what are you saying?" Steve replies almost instantly, his brows furrowing. He'd just taken on the world for Bucky, and if it came to it, he'd do it again. 

"I'm not saying we sell him out. I'm just saying we need to strategize a way to grant him asylum. And _that_ became an impossible task to maintain since those Accords were signed." 

Steve leans back against the cool leather of the SUV, his head spinning from both the lack of food and what Fury had just said. _God, if Tony had just listened to him._ Under the World Court, they had _no rights._ There was no way he could save Bucky if he was under Ross's thumb. 

"So what do we do?" He sighs, not used to feeling this useless. But his body and his mind were severely weakened at the moment. And his emotions were all over the place as Fury started the engine. Pretty soon, he'd be back at Avengers Tower, in the same room with some friends... and some of the people he'd fought against. 

_Some of the people he'd hurt._

And he wasn't ready.

 

......................

 

Tony frowns at the frenzied scene on the screen before him. 

His eyes are sore and tired from hours of waking but he's pretty sure there's a mob outside his goddamn tower. Don't get him wrong, he's used to large crowds meandering about on the front steps, waiting for a glance at the Mark 46 or the opportunity to scream about a billion questions at Natasha or Clint about the state of the team et cetera. But _this crowd_ seems just a tad bit off the rails, screaming and shouting and cameras flashing every nanosecond as a black SUV pulls up to the front. 

_God, that had to be Fury._

"Tony-" Natasha calls, faltering when she notices the surveillance screen glowing in front of him. 

"It's a goddamn mess out there. Why the hell didn't Fury take the back entrance?" He complains, downing a shot of whiskey. 

"It's blocked. The media vans are all parked there just in case they tried to hide _him_." She answers quietly, an unfamiliar sadness in her voice. Tony ignores it. 

"And what about the secondary entrance?" 

"Media trucks have been following him ever since he entered Manhattan. Do you really think he'd risk revealing a secret passage into the Tower?" 

"S'supposed to be secret." Tony mutters petulantly, his arms folded crossly. 

Natasha shoots him a withering look but both of their attentions are drawn to the holographic screen when loud cheers erupt. 

_And there he is._

The great Captain America, clambering out of a black SUV, head bent low, in navy blue overalls and- _socks._ Tony screws up his face but Natasha's eyes are locked on the screen. Steve looks scared, especially when people start getting in his face with their stupid cameras. They're either cheering, booing or a combination of both. But it's all white noise in Tony's ears. His eyes pick up several bruises on Steve's gaunt face, and the way the prison garb hangs off his wispy body. 

_Prison life did not suit him._

Fury's with him, acting like security as a few reporters try to question Steve. They walk up the steps where they're greeted by SHIELD agents. They step in and the video feed resumes monitoring the raucous crowd outside. Tony switches to the news where they're currently covering the story, just like he'd expected. Something ugly bubbles within him when he sees the headlines, _'Captain America Returns: A Hero's Welcome? Or a Walk of Shame?'_ Another headline read, _'Captain America Walking Into the Lion's Den.'_ Was that supposed to be them?, Tony wondered. Were they the lions? And the Tower, the Den? Who's side was the media taking? He read a little more and found his answer. 

The article said, _'Steve Rogers aka. Captain America defied the laws carefully described in the recently passed Sokovia Accords, breaking up the Avengers and committing treason in the process. He has been described by Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross as a war criminal and enemy of the state. We're asking you, is Captain America an honest man? Did he make the right decision? Or is he just a traitor who never cared about the American people?'_

"Guys, he's here." Clint announces, jerking them out of concentration. Natasha hastens to meet Clint while Tony remains stuck to his seat. Natasha pauses, turning around to stare expectantly at him. 

"Tony. Let's go." 

He doesn't meet her eyes but nods at the screen. "I'll be out in a second. Just gotta- do this." He mutters almost incoherently, fiddling about with the array of tools on his desk. Clint frowns at him, clearly disappointed but he doesn't push it. Natasha almost looks as if she's about to drag him out of his work station but she unclenches her fist and nods sharply before leaving. 

They _both_ know he's lying. 

 

.......................

 

Tony never showed.

Steve is welcomed back with _mostly_ open arms the minute he steps into the common room. Wanda is the first to rush up to him, wrapping him in a much needed hug. They cling to each other for a minute longer than necessary, both seeking comfort in each other. Steve feels grounded in her warmth and her genuine happiness to see him back gives him hope for the future. He isn't naive though, and knows that the happy feeling of hope inside him is fleeting. It won't last once reality sets in. 

Sam is the next to embrace him, the man's strong arms crushing Steve tightly as he tells him how much he's missed seeing his sorry ass. Sam is all teary-eyed and emotional that Steve's finally back but all Steve can think about, is how Sam had to pay for his mistakes. It wasn't right. And Steve would apologise profusely to the man that had become his best friend soon. But for now, he chose not to ruin the moment and just hugged Sam back just as tightly. 

"Good to have you back Steve." 

He takes a deep breath and then exhales heavily. "I'm glad you're okay now Sam." 

Clint was next, offering Steve a strong-gripped handshake before pulling him into a hug, giving him a solid clap on the back. He's a bit stiff to the touch, Steve realises, noting the subtle difference in Clint's embrace compared to Sam's. It's jilted and a terribly professional. But Steve takes what he can anyway. He was the reason for Clint's family being exposed to SHIELD in the _first_ place. 

"No place like home eh?" The archer quips, grinning at Steve thoughts smile never reaches his haunted eyes. Steve can see himself reflected in those shadowed orbs. 

"Guess not." Steve answered as honestly as he could, giving Clint his best smile. It feels more like a grimace he thinks as he's pulled into a tight embrace by Natasha. 

She's probably the only one to whisper, "I'm sorry," in his ear as they break apart, her somber green eyes gazing at him sadly. He feels her emotions trough that gaze and it's too open and too raw for him in that moment. He avoids her eyes instead and half-asses his way through a grin. 

"I'm fine." He answers quietly, lying through his teeth but never one to burden others with his worries. He's done enough damage. But he _has_ to ask.

"Where's Tony?" 

"Something came up at the lab." Rhodey interrupts, Natasha nodding silently at him with a wary smile. The air is tense for a moment as Steve meets Rhodey's eyes, all his guilt and shame suddenly rising to the surface as he notices the locomotive machinery attached to the Colonel's hip and legs. He _should've_ been more careful. 

"R- Rhodey." He says softly, guilt clouding his sky blue eyes. 

The man nods at him before a genuinely relieved smile breaks across his face. 

"Good to have you back Captain." He says cheekily, the embrace taking Steve completely by surprise. He sinks into it anyway, silently begging for forgiveness whilst repenting for his sins in the same moment. 

"I- ...I'm so glad you're okay." He replies quietly, trying his best to _not_ look at the contraption holding Rhodey up on his feet. 

"Wasn't your fault, Steve." Rhodey assures him quickly when he fails to keeps his eyes off the brace. He feels even more guilty and immediately goes to apologize again.

"I'm so sorr-" 

"It was messy and just awful but this was a mistake Cap. I'm fine as can be now." 

Steve nods reluctantly, his guilt even worse now. But he doesn't show it, for Rhodey's sake. He'd kick himself in the teeth later in the privacy of his own room. _If he still had a room at the Tower, that is._

He's nauseated and disoriented by the return home and his stomach clenches painfully around the sparse amount of fries and soda he'd consumed earlier. He decides to call it a day when his head starts spinning and every one around him becomes a blur. There are still reporters and media bloodhounds circling the Tower, screaming for Captain America. It all made his head hurt and all he wanted to do now was shut it off. 

If only just for a short while. 

"I'm just tired I swear." He tries to placate, hating the disappointed looks on some of their faces. They had a lot of questions for him, about Bucky and T'Challa, and the time he'd spent in the Raft with Ross. But it was mostly Bucky. And Steve didn't feel like talking about Bucky at the moment. He was afraid he'd burst into tears before he even for the words out. 

Thankfully Natasha understood him well enough to know that he was at his limit. 

"Okay, bedtime Rogers." 

They let him retreat to his room with much reluctance. 

Tony's absence weighs heavily on his shoulders. 

........................

 

Tony's good at pretending. 

Fury tells him as much as he barges into the shorter man's lab, totally unannounced and uninvited. He makes himself comfortable on Tony's 5 minute-break sofa and helps himself to some of his animal tea crackers that he has there for a light snack. 

"Would you like some tea with that Master Fury?" He mocks, the sarcasm practically _oozing_ from his voice. 

Fury just shoots him a severely unimpressed look, munching on the crackers in an exaggerated way. 

"Steve's back." He states simply, crossing his ankles as he settles back against the sofa. 

Tony shrugs, turning back to his work. "Yeah, I know." 

He focuses on the holographic cross-section of an iron legion suit he'd been referencing, Fury's voice muffled behind him. 

"He asked for you."

Tony writes down a couple of numbers on a dusty, lead-stained notebook on his desk. "Really?" 

Fury nods despite Tony's nonchalance. "Looked disappointed when you didn t show up." 

Tony scoffs, tapping at his screen, opening another hologram with a much more modified version of his Mark 46. 

Fury takes his unresponsiveness in stride. "Look, I don't know what happened between you and Rogers back in that Siberian bunker but-"

"Yeah that's right, you _don't know._ So stop trying to get me to tell you." Tony snaps, frustratedly trying to focus on his diagrams that all seem to be blurring in front of him. 

"It's keeping the team apart. I brought you all together to fight the bad guys. Secretary Ross is _one_ of those bad guys. And I need you as a team to expose him as the scum he is." Fury counters, his voice dead serious now. 

Tony frowns, swiveling around to face the Director. "What does Ross have to do with anything?" 

Fury sighs heavily. "He doesn't exactly like the Avengers." 

"Gee, I wonder what made you think that? Was it the way he threw half of us into prison without a second thought? Or was it the way he publicly declared that we're a threat to social peace and order?" Tony asks caustically, waving a silver wrench dramatically in his hand. 

Fury shoots him a withering look. "I'm not buying this whole _'I don't give a damn because I'm not hurt because I don't feel anything'_ facade Stark. I've never fallen for it so just stop."

Like clockwork, Tony stops, dropping his wrench and turning back to his work. The silence festers between them for a long moment, just the shuffling of papers and the vibration of the moving holograms echoing in the cold lab. Fury lets the man settle for a while, knowing when Tony's reached his limit for the day. The last thing he wants to do is create more friction within his fractured group of heroes. The world needed them, even if they didn't realize it yet.

"Did you know?" Tony suddenly asks quietly, his tone cautious and uncharacteristically timid. Almost as if he didn't want to know. 

Nick knew though. 

"Steve brought it up to me. Once."

Tony lowers his head, probably glaring down at his shoes with teary eyes, the bitter taste of betrayal in his throat. 

Nick sighs, shaking his head. "It was more of a realization than it was a revelation. He'd pieced the evidence together after he realized Zola was still alive. He really didn't know Tony." 

"Don't try to take his side." Tony snarls, low in his throat as he rounds on Fury, his eyes red but no tear shed. "He put two and two together. And he told _you._ I was just some afterthought." 

Nick remains silent because he doesn't really have the answers Tony is looking for. He had to work it out between Steve and himself. He wasn't there to play therapist, no matter how much he wanted to fix the broken bond between two of his strongest allies. 

"And he still took Barnes' side. Left me for dead in that bunker. I don't hold grudges _Director_ , especially since a lot of the people I trusted were the ones that tried to kill me. But I trusted Rogers. If you want us to be a team, fine. But don't ask me to forgive him for what he did." 

With that, Tony turns back to his work, his back tense and his hands steady as he scribbles equations out furiously on lead and tear-stained paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to comment or kudos. :)


	5. Thinking Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentiment. It's everyone's weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all like it so far.

Thinking Of You 

 

Again. 

He had a raging fever. _Again._

He knew this because he'd just gotten over a bout of scarlet fever, just before his mother's funeral. And now, here it was again. Coursing like molten lava through his veins, burning his organs with every breath. His eyes felt swollen and they _throbbed_ every second or so, hot and teary. His breathing had diminished significantly, coming out in staccato puffs, using up whatever strength he had left. 

The ceiling above him spun in never-ending circles, making him dizzy. The light was dim and spread an orange glow across his face as an owl hooted just outside the window. Somewhere to the side, a small but rusted fan spun lazily, sending a cool breeze over his naked skin. Clothes were not an option when his temperature was _this_ high. A damp cloth rested on his forehead, a small trickle of lukewarm water dripping down the side of his face. 

A hand presses gently under his neck, a disappointed sigh following the touch. 

"Jesus Stevie. It's not going down." 

Steve frowns at the familiar voice. "Bucky?" He whispers softly, his throat burning with the effort it took to speak. 

"I'm here, bird. I'm here." Bucky replies quietly, taking the damp cloth off his head and wringing it out in a basin by his bedside. The cloth resumes its position upon his head, cooler now. It calms his headache some. 

"Hurts." He whimpers, frowning slightly as he feels Bucky taking his bony hand in his much larger ones. 

Bucky sighs, kissing his blistered knuckles tenderly, hating how weak Steve sounded. God he _hated_ this. Steve was always such a little spitfire raging machine. Always scratching and clawing to protect and save people, never hesitating to do good. He'd gotten so used to seeing his best bud feisty and kicking ass that he'd almost forgotten how sick the poor thing really was. Sarah, Steve's mom had been taking care of him through his worst maladies when Bucky worked down at the wharf, so he'd barely gotten to see Steve in such a state. And when he did, Steve was well and smiling with a sparkle in those beautiful sky blue eyes. 

But now that Sarah was gone, and Steve had moved in with him, he got to see the worst of it. 

And it broke his heart. 

"I know it hurts Stevie. Wish I could make it all better." He says honestly, resting his forehead on Steve's tiny hand. Steve groans as another tremor wracked through his naked body. 

"M'already better Buck." He smiles, tired eyes finally opening to gaze upon the man who was taking care of him. 

"No, you're not. God, I can't even- you need a doctor and I can't even afford that-" Bucky sighs through gritted teeth, looking away as a tear rolls down his cheek. 

Steve frowns, trying to sit up. He fails. "I'm fine Buck. I swear. Don't need a doctor-" He reassures the man but it's interrupted by a terrible cough. Bucky helps him sit up, the thin sheets slipping down his completely naked body. Steve tries to hide his modesty but Bucky doesn't give a damn. He didn't feel repulsed by Steve's bony, almost skeletal frame- _not like Steve did._ He loved every part of it. 

"Shh, easy." Bucky tells him, petting his angel soft hair. "Let me get a washcloth." 

It breaks his heart to leave Steve for all of three seconds to retrieve the cloth but Steve needed to cool down now. He dips the cloth into another basin of water that smells almost medicinal like lemon and bay leaves, wringing it out before bringing it to Steve's pale skin. He wipes Steve's back first, the water glistening against his pale skin. Steve hums quietly, his eyes closed as the cool cloth rubs down his chest and neck, softly giggling when Bucky goes to rub down his front. 

"C'mon hey- stop it punk." Bucky chuckles as Steve shies away from his touch. 

"I think I can wipe there Buck." Steve huffs, ashamed, his cheeks blushing redder than they had been with the fever. 

"I don't mind doing it Steve. I love every part of you, bird." Bucky replies, kissing Steve's temple before reaching down and wiping between Steve's thighs. He's hard, obviously but Bucky doesn't seem to mind, holding Steve close as he works his way down his body. Steve just tries his best to save face, burying his nose in Bucky's neck. Bucky smells like the woods, all rich and earthy with a spicy tinge of sweetness like cinnamon. Steve hates cinnamon. 

But he likes it on Bucky. 

"There, done." Bucky announces proudly, dumping the cloth and grinning up at Steve, looking like a magnificent knight in shining armor. Steve's considerably cooler now, and his head doesn't feel as if it's going to explode anymore. He returns the grin, wrapping his bony arms around Bucky's neck. 

"Thank you." He mutters sweetly, kissing Bucky's cheek timidly. It was weird, being so intimately open with Bucky when they'd _never_ actually been intimate. Bucky loved Steve enough to wait even though Steve was constantly begging him to. He was always sure he would be ready but Bucky knew his little bird. And he knew that Steve was deathly afraid of having sex because of his nerves. He wanted to take his time with his precious bird. And right now during the war, didn't seem like the right time for _anything._

"No need to thank me Stevie. Told you I'm with you til the end of the line pal." He whispers in Steve's ear, kissing him right there. 

Steve snorts sheepishly, "End of the line might be closer than you think." 

Bucky goes stock still, glaring down at the tiny blonde with hardened gray-blue eyes. "Don't even make those jokes Steve." 

Steve shakes his head, muttering a soft, "Sorry Buck. I wasn't thinking." 

Bucky goes all soft for him at once, snuggling him and kissing his forehead. "It's okay, birdie. Just can't stand the thought of- I just _can't._ I love you." 

Steve smiles, a real genuine one, and it just brightens Bucky's day. 

"I love you more Bucky." 

_Within the next week, Bucky would be drafted to war and Steve would be recruited by Dr Erskine for the super-soldier experiment. And all hell would break loose from there._

 

.....................

 

Steve wakes with a jolt and a gasp, shooting upright in his bed. 

His laboured breaths are harsh and loud in his empty room, his chest heaving with the exertion of his fevered dream. _I love you more Bucky._ His own voice echoes distantly in his head, his eyes glistening with- _tears?_ He wipes furiously at it, hating how scared and lonely he felt. A shiver broke over his back as an icy wind blew through his open window. Silvery moonlight shine through, covering his room in a bluish grey hue. He frowns, shoving the thick blankets off of his naked body, bringing his legs over the bedside. 

He can feel the ghost sensations of Bucky's touches, rubbing down his back, his chest, touching his neck tenderly, on his face, a soft, butterfly kiss at his temple. It's too much for him at once and he has to shake his head to wake up properly. He hasn't gotten a fever in decades but his skin is heated and _alive_ under his own fingers. There's a molten heat between his legs that he tries uselessly to ignore, his face burning with shame and embarrassment. Jesus, how sick was he? 

Bucky didn't even remember him, much less the way he used to hold him, and touch him and kiss him. They'd never made love, or were intimate beyond gentle kisses and sensual strokes. Steve had been too small, too weak for a proper fucking. And now that he was stronger, Bucky didn't even remember him. The twentieth century was never nice or kind to him, why would the twenty-first be any different, he thinks, heading to the shower. He needed to cool the heat off his body and to control his arousal. He'd never given himself to anyone, not even his own hands. 

It just felt wrong to betray Bucky like that. 

Especially since he was back in the Tower with Tony just a few floors up. 

_Tony..._

The man's name is enough to unravel him, his hair growing dark under the shower of cool water. At 3AM it was just wrong to shower without the heater on but Steve, it seemed, liked to punish himself. He'd betrayed Tony- no... almost _killed_ him and the trust they'd built over the past five years. He'd never forgive himself for what he'd done... but it was a minute of weakness. A tough and impossible decision. What could he do? How could he save Tony _and_ protect Bucky? 

He'd do anything for James Buchanan Barnes. He owed the man his life and that was something he'd never owed to anyone else. But then came Tony, a _Stark_ of all people, just like his Dad but so unlike him in a million other ways. Tony was fearless and admirable, and he protected the ones he cared about with a fierce conviction. Steve hadn't seen that kind of spirit since the forties. He was the first to give Steve a tour of Manhattan, the first to take him back to Brooklyn. He cared about Steve's feelings and he took Steve to dinner a few days after they'd met in Stuttgart. Mostly to ask him about the forties and Howard but Steve took it as a wonderful offer anyway. 

But Tony was fiercely independent as well and he never backed down from a good old argument. He had good strategy and worked meticulously on the battlefield to both defeat his enemies and save the people that needed saving. He was often the only one who challenged Steve and made all the fights worth it. Tony was the heart of the team, whether Fury liked it or not, and he was everything Steve wished he could be. Strong, independent, smart and free- not some useless soldier who'd been created _by and for_ the American government only. 

Tony was right when he said it all those years ago.

 _You're a laboratory experiment Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle._

 

.......................

 

The loud alarm rings throughout the Tower and immediately sets everyone on high alert. 

Natasha is the first one out, her guns locked and loaded, green eyes narrowed as she looks around for danger. Clint follows, his bow pulled tight, fingers at the ready to release. Wanda's fists are glowing bright red and Rhodey stands beside her, his War Machine glove on, repulsors ready to fire. They're all looking around for the threat but all they see is Steve, in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants, one foot out the door. His blue eyes frown at them, confused as he steps back in, hands up in the air with a small, sheepish grin. 

"Uh... it's just me guys." He chuckles nervously, just as the alarms go silent. 

"The hell Rogers?" Clint grumbles sleepily, tossing his bow in the marble kitchen island. 

"Where were you going?" Natasha asks, not demanding, just curious. 

"On my run..." Steve answers, sullen. 

"You think JARVIS was compromised?" Clint asks Rhodey, who shrugs looking just as confused and tired as the rest of them. 

"JARVIS wasn't compromised and I'm honestly insulted by the implication your statement makes about my programming skills." Tony suddenly says, appearing out of practically nowhere, going immediately to the fridge to search for breakfast.

Clint scowls at the man. 

"So then what happened?" Wanda demands, powering down her fists. 

Tony nods at Steve, finally looking him in the eyes, though not for very long. "That one triggered the alarm system, JARVIS was just doing his job." 

Natasha frowns. "Don't make us beat the answer out of you Stark. Out with it." She can tell he's dragging the moment on for longer than was necessary. 

He sighs, pouring cereal into a cup.

"That's a cup." Rhodey sighs at the man, disappointed as he grabs a proper bowl for him. 

"Thanks dear." Tony grins at his best friend, transferring the cereal from the cup to the bowl. 

"Can we get an answer now?" Rhodey tries, his tone cautious but firm. 

Tony purses his lips before sighing. "As per the World Court and Ross's requests, Captain America is not allowed to leave the premises without their permission." 

There's a resounding, _"What?"_ from everyone except Steve, who frowns hard. 

"That's bullshit." Rhodey argues.

"Agreed." Clint adds, his eyes hooded as he side glances at Natasha. 

"They claim that house arrest is the best way to keep Spangles here out of trouble." Tony shrugs through a mouthful of cereal and milk. 

"Their claims are unfounded." Natasha snaps, "What does Fury have to say about this?" 

"Fury is the one they sent to inform me." 

"Why only you?" Wanda questions. 

Tony sighs and shakes his head, a bit reluctant to spill any more damning news. 

"Tony, why only you?" Steve asks softly, everyone turning around to look at him as he says the man's name. It shouldn't have been so surprising but it was a surreal moment anyway. 

Tony doesn't meet anyone's eyes this time, staring down hard at his soggy Lucky Charms. "Because I'm team leader now." 

And just like that, Steve had _everything_ taken away from him. 

His freedom, _gone_. His old life, _decimated by time._ And now... this. He was sure Ross had done this to cause more of a rift between them. And to humiliate the great Captain America in front of his teammates. Why? He wasn't sure, but this was what Ross did best. Create chaos. And destroy lives. 

"Fury wouldn't have let this happen without a say in it." Natasha vehemently opposes. 

"That's the thing. The Avengers Initiative overrides some control Ross and the Court had over us. But- ...he's still an international criminal for harbouring Barnes. So in that respect, despite being in our custody, he's still under the jurisdiction of the World Court." 

The entire kitchen goes silent at that, eyes staring at nothing but the ground. They were in deep red tape it seemed, their every move monitored by the World Court thanks to the Accords. 

"And, since he more or less left us to our own devices for some time, Ross is now filing a counter-order that denounces Fury as our overseer."

"What?!" Natasha growls in shock. Frankly, they're all in a state of disbelief. 

Tony nods. "Doesn't really say he's the official leader of the Avengers on paper. Just that he wrote the Initiative." 

Clint groans, sitting on a barstool, rubbing his temples. "I wish Bruce was here. He'd smash the crap outta that airhead Ross." 

Steve shrugs. "It's okay. I don't mind you being the team leader Tony. You kinda _were_ anyway." 

Tony stares up at the blonde, trying his best not to glare. Did Rogers seriously _not_ see how dire their situation was? _That's_ what was on his mind? It's like he wasn't Captain America anymore. Just some random guy who was happy to be a part of the team despite all the politics. It was highly unlike Steve to _not_ be angered by Ross's underhandedness. 

"Are you serious?" Clint frowns, all the humor leaving his tone. 

Steve shakes his head. "I was jus-"

"Team leader is the least of our worries Rogers." Tony berates. 

"I know- " Steve tries but Tony ignores his protests.

"We're in some deep shit here." 

"I know we are." Steve placates hastily, "I was just- I'm sorry. You guys don't have to do this. It was my mistake and the team shouldn't have to pay for what I did." 

Tony drops his bowl in the sink, before rounding on Steve with a growl. 

"The bigger picture here is that Ross and the World Court can do basically anything to us and they don't need our consent to do so. Not everything is about you Rogers. And feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help anyone." 

He leaves the room just as suddenly as he'd appeared, the rest of the Avengers standing around the kitchen a bit awkwardly. Natasha looks ready for a fight while Clint just looks done and Wanda who glances at Steve sadly. Rhodey sighs, ever the optimist, patting Steve on the shoulder. 

"Lets just take a breather guys. That was a lot for one morning." 

Everyone disperses, Natasha a little less willingly. She sends Steve an apologetic look before taking her leave. 

"The grounds are always a good alternative for a run." Rhodey tells him, his tony sympathetic. It really wasn't, if he were being honest with himself, knowing that it was crowded by a lot of SHIELD agents and trainees who utilized the grounds for practice. But Steve smiled at him anyway.

"Thanks Rhodey." 

Steve retreats to his room quietly, as if he'd never left and stays in bed for the rest of the day. 

 

.........................

 

"I like this one." 

Shuri chuckles, her skin glowing golden in the evening sun. 

"He likes you too, Bucky. We call that one Lilo." 

"Lilo? Why?" Bucky asks, his laughter light and happy as Lilo jumps all over him. The baby goat is a soft, peanut brown, with white ears and big eyes. He's small for his age but probably has more energy than the rest of them combined. He headbutts Bucky's side excitedly as the man pets him. 

"It's short for _ngomlilo_ which means fire. He was born premature and W'Kausa didn't think he'd make it. But he's still here, with his brothers and sisters, making a ruckus. More spritely than any of them." Shuri explains, grinning at the ex-assassin who genuinely seems happy with his baby goats. 

"He's my favorite." Bucky decides, cackling as Lilo butts him again, throwing him off balance. He lands backwards into the soft grass, petting Lilo with his one arm as his eyes catch the picturesque sky overhead. 

He thinks he once knew someone like Lilo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and kudos! Much love, Sam


	6. Wildest Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earning forgiveness is easier said than actually done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write this in the most realistic way possible. So, though they might seem stubborn, Tony can't forgive Steve just like that and Steve can't always be frustratingly righteous.

Wildest Dreams 

 

Steve dreams Bucky again. 

But this time, it's a goddamn nightmare and Bucky's screaming his name as he falls off the train. It causes Steve to jerk physically, gasping and drenched in sweat as his sins haunt his memories. He glances out the window and sees that it's night time. Again. He hasn't left his room after that whole incident in the kitchen. Tony was mad; rightfully so. And he couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment and disgust on his teammates faces again. So he just stayed in bed all day. Hoping this would all go away and he'd be back in Brooklyn in 1943 with his best bud at his side. Small and sickly as he was, it was a much better life than the one he lead now as the righteous Captain America. 

He sighed, drinking down some water from the glass on the side table. His eyes catch sight of the brown, landline telephone resting quietly and untouched just beside the water. He'd been putting it off for two days, ever since he'd returned home. His reason was a mix between giving Shuri some time to work on Bucky some more and giving _himself_ time. Just the idea of calling made his stomach all wacky, like the Cyclone Ride at Coney Island all over again. 

But Steve was no coward so he quickly picked up the receiver, dialling the number Shuri had given him. 

It rings at least three times before he puts it down, his nerves getting the better of him. Then he picks it up again and calls.

Shuri answers this time. "I thought you were going to call as soon as you got back." 

Steve shakes his head. "Couldn't. I was at the Raft and then they transferred me." 

She sighs. "I saw. It was all over the news." 

Steve smiles, a sad little thing but doesn't let his emotions reflect in his voice. "H- How is he?" 

"I'm happy to report that he's been doing very well. The instincts of the Winter Soldier have been non-existent. He isn't as jumpy as before and he's made some new friends." 

Shuri sounds pleased and Steve can't say that he blames her. Her therapy seems to be working. "Sounds great. Are they- are you sure they'd be safe around hi-" 

"Yes." She answers immediately. "They're not exactly _people._ I should have mentioned that first."

Steve frowns. "Wh- what d'you mean?" 

"I think socializing him with people right now is, counter-productive. He reacts normally around me and my brother. But other people don't fare too well in his presence. His killer instincts still kick in for people. And he's really powerful, even without the arm. So, for now, Bucky's best friends are goats." Shuri concludes, her big reveal for something so silly uplifting Steve's mood immensely. 

He chuckles out loud, a free and wild sound to his own ears. 

"Oh no. Bucky actually really likes animals. Guess I should've mentioned that." 

Shuri laughs. "If you hadn't I would've guessed it anyway. He's a natural with the baby goats. And I am proud to say that he's graduated from living in my lab to having his own hut in the farmlands." 

Steve's heart races. "Really?"

"Mhm." 

"Wow, Shuri that's- I don't know how to thank you. I- I was so worried." He reveals quietly, feeling tears spring to his eyes. He doesn't want to get emotional, the young genius already has enough on her plate. But he's so genuinely happy that at least _one thing_ is going right in his life. Bucky was getting better. That's the most he could've asked for.

"I know you are. And I'm not one to make empty promises Captain Rogers but, I have a good feeling about this one."

Shuri and her brother T'Challa really were a blessing he never thought he'd encounter but was extremely glad he had them in his life. He hasn't been able to control much of his life since he'd been found frozen and alone. Everyone had just assumed he would be okay, leading a group of superheroes, saving the world, fighting the bad guys. Truth was, he'd never really adjusted to modern times. _Hell,_ even back in the forties, Steve had been an outcast, looked down on because of his weak stature and poor status. 

_But this?_

Helping Bucky heal from his HYDRA indoctrination? This was something he could do. This was something he had control over. And he would dedicate the rest of his life to it. It made him feel like he was doing something. If- no, _when_ Bucky was okay again, Steve would give him the world. And he'd make amends with Tony. He could, he was sixty per cent sure. The man couldn't stay angry forever, could he? 

After a long and hopeful chat with Shuri, he showers and dresses, ready to go out there and make amends. But Natasha's there when he opens his door and she doesn't look happy. 

"Nat, what's going on?" 

She backs him into his room, slamming his door shut. "Tell me you've stayed out of contact with King T'Challa and his people and weren't just having a conversation with Princess Shuri on the phone." 

Steve gapes at her stupidly, reaching for words to say but it's futile. Something in Natasha's eyes tells him he'd just fucked up. Bad.

"Steve, you can't keep in contact with her. They're gonna use that against Fury and Tony."

"How?" Steve demands, already crumbling because his happy had just taken a hard hit and had become very, very sad. 

"The entire reason you got arrested and thrown into prison was because of Barnes. Keeping in contact with the people he's protected by is just adding to your sentence." She explains quietly.

Steve frowns. "They don't know if Bucky's really there." 

The unimpressed look Natasha shoots him is enough to let him know he'd just said something incredibly stupid. 

"Do you think they're idiots?"

"You're right... sorry." 

Natasha sighs, feeling like an asshole for being so crass with him. He made a mistake, but that didn't mean she had to be so harsh about it. Especially when Steve had practically been frozen out by Tony. 

"Look, I told you once that I knew how much Barnes meant to you. I still do. You two weren't just war buddies and if there was a chance you could still save him, you'd take it. I'm not saying you can't. But we need to be careful about it. Our necks are kinda on the line here and we'd like to keep em." She jokes tiredly, patting him on the back. 

Steve smiles at her and shakes his head. "Nat I'm sorry, I really am. I never meant for all of this to happen. I just wanted- I don't even know how things got so bad." He sighs sadly, running a hand through his hair.

Natasha shrugs sympathetically. "You're not the only one at fault here. We _all_ had a hand in this. And it's up to us to fix it." 

Steve frowns. "How? Tony can't even look at me without getting this sick look on his face. And I know Clint still holds some reservations at his secret home being exposed to Ross and the authorities. Sam's back home spending time with his family now when he could've been doing that months ago." 

"Hey, I'm the last one to have an opinion on healthy relationships, but I know that this team gave me a second chance. After trading in the KGB for HYDRA and then SHIELD, I guess I wouldn't know where to go if it weren't for Fury and his stupid Initiative." She nudges him, the humor in her tone putting a smile on his face. He'd always admired Natasha's ability to find the humor in the darkest of situations. It certainly wasn't her job to make him feel better but she did her best anyway. And he always appreciated her insight. 

"Thank you, Natasha." He whispers, accepting her hug with open arms, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"No need." 

He pauses, pulling back from her. "Hey, how did you know I was talking to Shuri?" 

She grins at him and gets up. "Gotta go Rogers. Later." 

Steve shoots her a withering look. 

 

.....................

 

Tony feels like a kid that's been misbehaving, sitting at the Principal's desk with his partner in crime, Fury, waiting for the old man to show up. 

He plays with the contraption on Ross's desk, holding all the pens and pencils and other stationery. Then when he's bored of that, he starts tapping out a beat to Led Zeppelin's _Rambling On._ Fury shoots him a positively pissed look and kicks his foot, effectively stopping his caffeine-induced antics. 

"Fury, Stark." Ross coughs, entering the office before closing the door behind him. 

"Principal Ross." Tony quips, serious for one second before bursting out laughing. 

"I'd apologize for his stupidity but you're already used to it." Fury grumbles, elbowing Tony in the ribs hard. 

Ross sends them both a condescending frown, shaking his head as he opens a file. It's got Steve's picture in it, but then Ross slides the picture to the side and Tony recognizes the others; Rhodey, Wanda, Sam, Nat, Clint and himself.

"I've called this meeting because the people are worried." 

"The people Ross? Or you?" Fury challenges. 

"Look, there's been an outcry from the public, after what happened in Sokovia. And it is the World Court's duty to exact some measure of justice to those responsible." 

"Ultron was a mistake. And I agreed that we needed to be put in check. But at the same time, a HYDRA base was discovered and they were using the Tesseract to create superhumans like Wanda Maximoff and Pietro, her brother. We stopped that disaster from spreading." Tony fires back, all play gone from his expression and tone now.

"Irrelevant." Ross replies, "Your Ultron programme worsened the situation. And it also facilitated a way for Banner to escape with the Hulk. We haven't seen him since then." 

Fury glances at the file in Ross's hands, noticing Bruce's picture on one of the pages. 

"Look, Ross. They signed your Accords. What's this meeting all about?" 

Ross is silent for a moment, considering Nick before his devious eyes move over to Tony. 

"Captain America." 

Tony frowns but remains quiet. 

"This is about Steven Grant Rogers and his constant disobedience in the face of the United States government and the world. He led your team to ruin and forced the Avengers apart. Then he escaped with James Buchanan Barnes, a wanted criminal of HYDRA'S. Treason in the highest realm of injustices since Barnes was contracted by HYDRA in 1963 to assassinate President John F. Kennedy. And was successful." 

Tony had read that in the official mission report, but had totally glossed it over when he realized that Barnes had also murdered his parents.

"He was clearly under HYDRA'S control." Fury argues, leaving Tony confused and quiet in his chair. 

"And concessions were being made to bring him in alive. Stark himself saw to some of the blueprints for Barnes' treatment plan. But Rogers refused. That makes him dangerous." 

Fury growls. "Rogers has an issue with authority, I'll give him that. But he's not a criminal. You _are_ aware of his history with James Barnes are you not?" 

"History aside, the man is a mass murderer and assassin with skills that have been ingrained into him. He cannot be trusted at this point. And neither can Captain America. And we have reason to believe that Barnes is hiding out somewhere in Wakanda." Ross declares with a finality that seems damning for Steve.

Ross continues. "But that was just an overview of how bad Rogers' situation is. The _real_ reason I called you both here, is that my team and I have found a loophole in your Initiative."

"Bullshit." Fury contests. 

"After Sokovia, you went AWOL. But even before that, the Avengers have had to manage their team alone. Lengthy absence means you were not their overseer for quite some time. The Initiative clearly states that _should the overseer maintain a period of disappearance or is dead, the Avengers will function independently without him/her._ Seems like semantics really, but it does apply to our situation, don't you think?"

Tony would be the last one to declare, "checkmate" but, even he's got to admit, Ross had them. The funny thing is, he can't find it in himself to argue. Ross, the smug son of a bitch, was right. There was nowhere in the Initiative that stated clearly that Nick was the leader of the Avengers. Even Tony's position on the team was shaky, with him being an analytical and strategic consultant and Iron Man being the real hero. Ross seemed impenetrable now. 

But Fury wasn't going to take this defeat sitting on his ass. 

"You're out of your mind Ross. I may not have put my name in that Initiative as the _big boss_ but I drafted those documents."

"Too bad you didn't apply for a patent." Ross counters smugly.

"I did that intentionally. I may have put the team together but I don't _own_ any of them. There was a war that took care of that." Fury shoots back. 

Ross gets to his feet, just as a couple of government goons sweep into the office, guns in hand. 

"Whether you accept it or not, the Avengers belong to me now. The World Court will act as a council that decides when and where the team fights. But sole ownership lies with the American government." 

"It's gonna take a lot of time passing that theory through the justice system. A lot can happen while you're waiting." Fury tells him, the threat clear in his voice. 

But Ross doesn't budge one bit. "Be careful director Fury, I _am_ the justice system." 

Tony remains silent as ever as they're both escorted out of the building.

 

........................

 

Fury left some time after de-briefing the others, Steve included. 

Tony doesn't remember much of it if he's being honest. Just a lot of diplomacy, a bit of shouting, some swearing- mostly in Russian- and some soft _"sorrys."_ That was Steve and the longer Tony was in the room with the guy, the more it made his stomach churn with some sick feeling. Fury was brief and to the point, letting them know what they needed to and what his plan was. He'd left out some details about Steve and Bucky's situation, Tony noticed but he didn't say a damn thing. 

He split the moment Fury left in his SUV, retreating to the fortress that was his lab. And as Lady Luck would fucking have it, _Steve followed._

"Sir, Captain Rogers is seeking permission to enter the lab." JARVIS announces, as he pretended to mess around with things at his work station. He sighs after the third unsuccessful attempt Steve makes to enter his passcode. Tony had made one for each of them, just in case they needed something from his lab. After the entire fiasco at the airport, he'd changed them all. Now, only himself and Rhodey had access to his fortress. 

"Sir, Captain Rogers is seeking-"

"Okay, alright Jarv, open the door." He mutters tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Steve trots in cautiously, in a t-shirt that's way too big for him and dark sweats. He looks like a kicked puppy, blonde hair all mussed and out of place, large blue eyes open and looking around in wonder. He's biting his lower lip, making the skin red and irritated. Tony's lab is cold, the man realises when Steve shivers involuntarily. He looks smaller somehow but Tony doesn't look at him long enough to notice. 

"H- hey Tony." He greets softly, a tiny smile on his stupid innocent face. Tony wishes he could scream in the man's face, tell him to get out of his Tower. But he's a diplomat, if anything. So he keeps his feisty ass in check and nods stiffly. 

"Cap." One word, because, _what the hell else could he say?_ How's it been? Where's your murder pal? Where's the Dr Jekyll to your Mr Hyde? 

Nevertheless, Steve looks a bit sullied by his curt response. 

"You've been working on a new suit?" He asks, nodding towards the holograms of his Mark 46 and a cross-section of his Iron Legion. Tony frowns and quickly deposits the holograms in a closed file, removing them from view. 

"More like an old one. The Iron Legion suits got messed up because of Ultron but, they had a good makeup. I was just referencing." He explains, hating each and every word that came out of his lips. He was jilted goddammit! 

Steve nods, though he probably doesn't understand a single word of what Tony had just said. "Oh... sounds cool." 

Tony remains wilfully silent after that, shuffling some papers on his desk. 

It's Steve's move- _that much is glaringly obvious._

"Look, I meant what I said before. About you being the team leader? I don't mind Tony. You're the smartest one out of all of us. And as for Ross now taking over from Fury, well, I- there has to be some way to stop him. I- I know I'm not in the best position to help right now, but I'm here. And if you need me-" 

He was babbling and Tony couldn't stand it. 

"Ross found a loophole in the Avengers Initiative. There's no legal way out of this unless we can go back in time and unsign those Accords. So I guess you were right." He snaps, feeling some bit of satisfaction at the way Steve winced at his sharp tone. 

"We- well there must be _some_ way to fix this?" 

His laugh is cynical, kind of like the way he's laughed at the team when they didn't know why he was building Ultron. Bruce had been there to stop him then, but now, with the man gone, he was free to give in to his cynicism. 

"This is way past fixing Rogers. And I'd like it if we could move on from such a tragedy to focus on the _actual_ endgame here." 

"Which is what?" Steve questions, that pretty face frowning cluelessly. 

Tony laughs in that very face, too amazed by Steve's naivete to even be eloquent or diplomatic about this. 

"This isn't funny Tony." 

And that's when he snaps. 

"You're damn right it's not. We've got another threat coming. A _bigger_ threat. And the Avengers are nowhere _near_ ready for it. Because we're all over the place with no kind of compass. You once told me that if the threat ever came, we'd fight it together. Well guess what Captain America, _we're not!_ Hell, we're not even the Avengers anymore."

Steve just stands there, stupid look on his stupid face, not saying anything. He looks burdened and hurt. 

"I'm sorr-" 

"Jesus fuck, why do you keep saying that?" 

"Because I am!" Steve finally yells. Christ he'd never lost his temper this and since he was no bigger than Bucky's arm. He quickly regains his composure and sighs. 

"I didn't come back because Ross wanted me back. I came back because of you. I had to fix things with you." 

Tony glares directly at him now, his hazel eyes blazing with a familiar fire. He grits his teeth but remains silent, laser focused on Steve now. 

"I hate the way things were left. We were friends- ...and- I don't know how things got so bad between us. I just know that I'm sorry. And I want to fight by your side again. I want to be your friend again. Team or not, I told you I'd be here whenever you needed me." 

"I _was_ your friend." Tony says darkly.

"What?" 

" _I_ was your friend. And he was your friend."

"Yes but that's n-"

"And you chose him."

"Tony please-"

"I don't live in the past Steve, and I don't hold grudges. But I don't think I'll ever forget it. I can't." 

"I couldn't just leave him-" 

"Left me for dead." 

"I was protecting you-"

"You protected a murderer." 

"Bucky's not a-"

"I don't want to hear his name Rogers!" Tony snarls, the echo of his voice immediately silencing Steve with a hard flinch. 

"I know I'm a genius, but don't ask me to forgive you. Even I can't do the impossible." He clicks a square blue release button, unsealing the door to his lab.

"I've got a lot of work to do, so, ..." 

Steve takes his leave without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy minhoy


	7. All Out Of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isolation is Ross's key to controlling the Avengers. It all starts with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't as popular as I thought it would be. I guess it's because of the time I posted it. :/ don't think I'll continue.

All Out Of Faith 

 

An entire week had passed and no one had heard a word from the World Court or Ross. 

There had been several raids going on in various parts of the world, major cities _crawling_ with bad guys. SHIELD had been called in to replace the Avengers while they sat at home with absolutely nothing to do. Wanda was becoming restless, tossing random objects at anything that moved for the sake of sheer entertainment while Clint was busy dodging half of those things. Tony was still locked in his lab, working on his new suit while blocking everyone else out. _Some team captain he was._ But he never publicly took up the mantle of team leader so there was that. He may have seemed like an egotistical, billionaire airhead on screen but he couldn't have been more different from the picture painted of him by the media. 

Natasha had been recruited by Fury to help him with some old SHIELD Intel and Steve- well, Steve had become overly familiar with his room and the gym. His presence wasn't really needed in the command center anymore so he'd retreated to the safety and sanctity of the two rooms. He'd tried at least two more times, to talk to Tony, but all attempts were futile. Anything within the range of _"I'm sorry"_ and _"Please, I was just trying to protect you"_ fell on deaf ears. 

But now, this awkward silence was just frustrating. 

"This cannot go on." Wanda states resolutely to an extremely bored Clint.

"What can't?" He mumbles from where he's lying facedown on the sofa. 

"Steve and Tony." She hisses, tossing an open bag of chips at him. The contents fly out of the bag, scattering all over his head and the sofa. Wanda gasps and cackles out loud. 

"Yeah yeah, real proud of yourself ain't ya?" Clint mutters, already stuffing a handful of the chips into his mouth. 

"Sorry." She laughs, tossing her head back with a huge grin. It feels like a playground, like they're kids again and for a minute, they both chuckle together, enjoying the moment. 

"It's cool." Clint sighs, a wistful smile on his face. 

Wanda joins him on the sofa, lying down with her legs hooked over the backrest, her hair falling in flowy, red waves down to the floor. He dusts some of the chips off and settles on the sofa, properly and totally opposite to her. He throws his head back against the backrest, closing his eyes. 

"Must be pretty disappointing. All that shit I told you about, back in Sokovia... about the Avengers being this great opportunity to fight for the people. To fight for good. And now here we are, trapped in this stupid house with nothing better to do than toss chips at each other." 

Wanda studies him for a minute before closing her own eyes. 

She can remember the day as if it were yesterday. The screaming, the bombing, the explosions... _Pietro._ That had been an awful day, just watching her home being completely decimated, her people uprooted from their homes, while the Ultron drones ran rampant over the city. She'd been so scared, unable to really hold herself together until Clint got to her. She could never truly get over how terrible the entire event had been, but she knew that hundreds of her people were alive today because of her. And she wouldn't have gotten the strength to do that without Clint's encouragement. 

Clint did that. 

The _Avengers_ did that. 

"You are not what I thought you'd be." She finally says quietly, extending her fingers to gather all the spilled chips from the floor. She holds them in the air like confetti, frozen in time around them. Clint's eyes wide as he gazes up at them, a small smile on his tired face. 

"You are better. And we can be even stronger if we are together. This team isn't just a group of heroes... I think. We are a family. And we need to protect each other." 

Clint scoffs as if those words didn't hit a sore spot for him but he smiled down at her anyway, and she knows it's real. "Yeah alright. Maybe y-"

"Why the hell is he here?" Tony grumbles, stomping out into the living room area where Wanda and Clint are lying. 

They quickly scramble to their feet. "Who's here?" 

The doors slide open and Thaddeus Ross walks in with an armed entourage. 

"Good evening heroes." 

"What are you doing here Ross? And how the _hell_ did you get in?" Tony demands, not a hint of humor in those whiskey brown eyes. 

Ross doesn't seem fazed by it however, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I believe the Captain told me. But enough of that, where is he?" 

The Avengers look on in silence, their expressions part confusion, and part betrayed. _Why the hell would Steve give Ross his access codes to the Tower?_ As if on cue, Steve walks into the room, all innocent and unawares, a few sheets of paper and some pencils in hand. He blinks at the scene before him with bewildered blue eyes. 

"Wh- what is this?" He questions defensively, a wary expression on his face as he makes out Ross standing amongst his entourage. 

"Ah, Captain!" Ross greets, the smell of scumbag all over his person. "Good to see you again. And now that you're all here, there's been a disturbance in Romania, a small town called Viscri in Transylvania. Witnesses have cited seeing or being privy to the manufacturing of superpowered weapons."

"Alright, then let's suit up." Tony announces almost immediately. He was sure it sounded like another rogue HYDRA base.

Ross holds a hand up. "There will be no need for the entire team effort since this is just a preliminary investigation. Right now, the goal is to gather intelligence, alone." 

"Alright so, who goes, who stays?" Clint grumbles, getting straight to the point. He was probably the only one actually trained to gather intel due to his assassin and SHIELD past, so he'd be the best choice for such a mission. And then Tony had the know-how in regards to the technology so he could hack whatever databases needed hacking, so he'd be the other top choice. But Ross halts them again. 

"I will be taking Rogers for this case. And Rogers alone."

There's a noticeable shift in the room's temperature and atmosphere as they all harden their glares at Ross, Steve included. 

"Rogers can't gather Intel by himself, he's gonna need backup." Clint tells the man. 

"With my men at his side, he will have all the assistance he needs." Ross replies simply. 

"This is bullshit. The Avengers are a team and we don't go out on missions alone, that's suicide, no matter how strong _you think_ we are." Tony challenges, ignoring Steve who turns sharply to look at him, curiosity in those eyes. 

"Sure, that's the way the Avengers do it. But Captain America is not an Avenger anymore." 

"What?" Steve chokes, the papers crumpling in his hand. 

"His status as an international criminal has made his position in the team questionable. As per the Court's request, I have hereby terminated his affiliations with the team." Ross declares, a smug finality in his voice. 

"You can't do that!" Wanda argues, her fists glowing. Clint steadies her with a firm grip on the shoulder.

"That's low Ross, even for you." Tony growls. He's not sure whether he's more insulted that Ross didn't need the whole team, or angry that Steve wasn't even fighting back. Something fierce rises up inside of him, wild and untamed like overprotectiveness. He whisks it away as quickly as it comes, instantly hating how cruel he had become. None of it changed the fact that Ross really had _complete_ control over their lives now. 

"It's what the world wants. And it's what has to be done." The Secretary states matter of factly. "Rogers will also no longer maintain or take on the mantle of 'Captain America,' but will hereby be titled, _Nomad,_ as it is a disgrace to the American people." 

_That_ hits them all like a bitch slap to the face, Steve most of all who loses his grip on the paper and pencils in his hand. They flutter to the floor, pencils clattering loudly while the paper wisps across the tile. Surprisingly, the first thing that comes to mind is Bucky. _He_ was the one Steve had risked it all for. His life, his title, his friendships. God, he'd fought against _Tony_ for this; a man whom he'd come to deeply admire and respect. And a man, who, just like Bucky, had won his heart. 

He just never knew it yet.

"Will you say something?!" Tony snaps at him, startling him from his thoughts. 

But how can he? He doesn't have the words, much less the courage to say anything right now without choking up on his own tears. His life had become such a mess, he kinda wished he had stayed in Wakanda. 

But this was about penance. 

He had to keep reminding himself that he came back to fix things with Tony. And with the other Avengers. He _owed_ them that much. 

"Rogers, come with us." 

He's handcuffed roughly and shackled round the ankles, Ross's men turning their weapons on him. They march him out of the building like a convict, ignoring Wanda's protests and Clint's calls. Tony is left standing there, his eyes glaring as they shove Steve into a government issued prison carrier. It's the first time since Obadiah that he's felt so useless, standing rooted to the spot as Ross retreats, Steve's pages and pencils scattered on the floor. 

"Tony- goddammit Tony _snap out of it!_ We gotta call Fury." Clint tells him, but he might as well have been whispering. Because Tony can't hear a thing, staring hard as he picks up one of the pages lying pathetically at his feet. It's a rough sketch of someone, light but professional pencilwork of a man standing atop a grassy knoll, nothing but the night sky before him. It's beautiful, though it's undone, the little stars across the dark expanse twinkling on the paper. 

And it's so subtle, and almost _unnoticeable-_ but Tony thinks that the star on the man's chest looks a little like his arc reactor. 

 

......................

 

 _The images in his head are clear sometimes._

Darkened, sepia images of people smiling, dressed in ancient shirts and dresses, laughing and carrying on with pitchers of beer in their hands. He's there too, with a copper beer bottle in his hand, laughing his ass off at something that was said. The bar smells like burnt tobacco and cold brew. There's smoke all around them and the heavy sound of cars just outside. A woman's shrieking cackle takes his attention before it's lost again, to the sound of a man hassling some poor sod. 

"So small, sure you not a girl Rogers? Hm? Sure if I pants your hide right now, in front of all these grown folks I won't see your girly parts under some lace panties?" 

There's a soft voice coming from behind him, it's familiar yet not in a weird way he can't explain. 

"Shut up Hodge." 

He turns to look at the owner of the voice and realizes that it's a tiny blonde right next to him. He's barely a scrap of a man- more like a tiny boy, with strawberry blonde hair, dressed in pale khakis and a soft white shirt with a brown tie. He's sitting on a barstool, legs dangling off the edge cos he's so small. He doesn't have a beer but rather a soda, cold and barely touched in its glass bottle. He turns to look at Bucky with electric blue eyes and red, red lips. 

_I know him,_ he thinks. 

"Can we get outta here, Buck?" The blonde asks quietly, a bright blush adorning his thin face. But it's not a nice one- rather, it looks thoroughly humiliated. 

He blinks, _oh, he's talking to me. I'm Buck._

"Yeah. Sure thing Steve. Let's go." He answers, the name tasting sweet on his tongue. _He knows this punk!_ This tiny, scrappy little guy currently peering at him through huge blue eyes. 

"Leaving with your little lady friend huh Barnes?" Hodge sneers and this time Bucky snaps. He rounds on the man with a swift punch, knocking his ass out and flat on the bar floor, his beer spilling everywhere. 

"Golly! Barnes just wallopped Gilmore Hodge on his ass!" Someone shrieks in absolute delight, causing a ruckus of cheers to go around the bar as Bucky shouldered his way out of the crowded space. They make it out into the road, his arm wrapped around Steve's bony frame, gulping in huge amounts of the night air. It's chilly and wet out, Steve curling a little into him as a shiver wracks his weak body. 

He doesn't know why, but there's an innate instinct deep inside him that tells him that he needs to protect this. Needs to keep it safe. 

_It_ quickly pulls away from him, a bashful look on his pretty face. 

"M'sorry Bucky. Didn't mean to ruin your night. You were havin' so much fun." 

Bucky huffs and rolls his eyes. " _Please_ , I only went cos you wanted to go. I'd rather spend the night at the fair or something." 

"Nerd." Steve teases, his blush darkening as Bucky drapes his leather jacket over his shoulders like any proper gentleman would do for his lady. 

"Yeah but you're a nerd too so, I'm not offended." Bucky grins, wrapping that arm around Steve's small shoulders again. 

"Sorry though. I'm always pickin' fights and you're the one who gets the bad name cos I can't ever finish the fights." Steve apologises, his eyes staring sadly at the ground. 

Bucky pftts, squeezing him tightly. 

"Hodge was an asshole. Had that comin' for him since he was born. And anyway, I kinda like defending your honour. Y'know, being your knight in shining armor and all that romantic stuff." 

The blonde boy rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head. 

_"Sure okay. You've got a heart of gold James Buchanan Barnes."_

"Sergeant Barnes?" A voice calls curiously, shattering the perfect memory. 

He goes rigid in the soft bed, sitting upright, his gray-blue eyes narrowed and focused, like an owl preparing to take down prey. The beer is gone from his hand and for a minute he thinks it turned to a gun but then he blinks and sees its nothing but straw he's holding. And his other arm is non-existent. He blinks a couple times, slowly, frowning as he looks up at the woman standing before him. Her almond eyes are bright with worry, concern on her slim face. She's familiar as well- not as much as the little blonde boy had been but he knew her anyway. 

"Sergeant?" 

He knows her. Shuri. 

"Shuri." He repeats, sighing tiredly. "It's Bucky." 

She looks relieved to say the least, letting out a steady breath as a little brown goat brushes past her legs to jump on top of him. He pets Lilo gently, his anxiety lessening at the baby goat's happy bleating. 

"What was that? A relapse?" He inquires, brushing some of his unruly hair out of his face. Lilo, who is now on his lap is trying to eat his hair. 

Shuri sighs, taking up residence on the bed beside him. "No. It was a memory. A repressed one, but a remnant of your past nonetheless. It's easy to confuse your old life with the one you were forced to endure under HYDRA. And so some things may seem more bitter than they actually were." 

Bucky frowns. "And Steve? Is he a bitter idea of HYDRA's? Or is he a memory?" 

Shuri looks away, her eyes reflecting the outer landscape of W'Kausa's farm lands like art. This isn't the first time Bucky's asked about Steve. Every time he relapses, he wakes up with a look of horror and confusion on his face. And he asks about a blonde named Steve. If he was alive, and if HYDRA had gotten him too. 

But this was new. 

Steve showing up in an actual memory of Bucky's had never occurred before and she wanted to know more about the memory. 

"He is a memory, Bucky." She reveals quietly, petting Lilo who'd made it over to her lap when Bucky stopped petting him. 

"A _real_ memory?" Bucky demands, but his eyes are alight with some form of happiness. 

Shuri nods. "Tell me about the Steve in your memory." 

He takes some time but then nods. "He- ...he was blonde. The pretty kind of blonde, all strawberry and angel-like. And his eyes were... _blue._ Not the regular blue- a- ...a really bright, out-of-this-world blue." 

He frowns. 

"And he was tiny. Like, _skeletal._ Could probably my wrap my arms around him twice." 

His frown deepens. 

"Ar- ...I had _both_ of my arms... then."

It's the first indication to Shuri that Bucky had indeed had a memory earlier. If remembering how tiny Steve was, wasn't evidence enough, the revelation of his limbs were. This was good, this was progress. But she held back from interrupting him. A memory as lucid as this required time and time uninterrupted.

He continues. 

"He was warm though... _Steve._ I put my jacket on him, but he was still warm to the touch. And-" He pauses, eyeing her warily. She nods at him to continue, a gentle and encouraging smile on her lips. 

_"I think I loved him."_

Her expression doesn't change one bit when he reveals this, but she cautiously looks him in the eye this time. 

"Are you sure?" 

He frowns. "What d'you mean?" 

"I mean, are you sure you loved Steve?" She repeats, her tone still gentle. Not condescending or arrogant. 

He studies his feet for a moment, thinking hard, back to the dream- no, _memory._ Steve had looked so soft and pretty then, his baby blue eyes absolutely darling in the midst of those dim street lamps. And those red lips- _oh..._ all he can remember is wanting to kiss them. _Desperately._

He recalls the way Steve had curled into his body, when they'd left the bar. The protective instinct he'd gotten when Hodge had disrespected Steve. Steve had been so sweet and apologetic, saying sorry with that beautiful face, but all Bucky wanted to do was hold him and kiss him, right there and then under the dim streetlights and darkened Brooklyn sky.

"I was supposed to protect him." He says to himself but it comes out as a low growl, his eyes glaring at Shuri now. 

"He's dead, isn't he?"

She shakes her head and his heart _soars_ in disbelief. 

"He's alive?!" 

Shuri nods, letting go of Lilo as he scampers away to find his sisters. She is quiet for some time, obscenely aware of the way his expert eyes track every twitch of her lips and blink of her eyes. She's reminded of his ingrained killer-instinct and takes a deep breath. 

"Steve is alive. He became Captain America." 

Bucky goes rigid next to her and in a flash, he's on his feet, his eyes going dead and his jaw _clenched._ Even with one arm he poses a credible threat so she stays as still as possible. 

"Captain America is the enemy." He snarls, his voice _nothing_ like the soft and gentle man just a few seconds ago. 

"Captain America was HYDRA'S enemy." She says carefully. 

"Nyet!" He hisses, his lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth. 

"Yes. HYDRA was a parasite organisation, profitting off of the tragedy of wars. Remember Bucky. They were the ones who captured you. Turned you into the Winter Soldier. And Steve became Captain America to save people like you from monsters like Johann Schmidt." 

A brief flash of memories invade his mind, the words sounding familiar. He's heard about the evils of HYDRA before. Was it from her? From Shuri? Or was she indoctrinating him too? 

He growls as Lilo hops into the room, the baby goat's innocence and purity cutting through the thick and heated tension in the room. Bucky frowns hard, shaking his head, dizzy. He drops back down onto the bed as Lilo runs and jumps up into his lap. He puts a steadying hand on the animal, petting it tenderly. 

"I'm sorry." He mutters after a short while, scratching Lilo under the chin. But Shuri shakes her head. 

"It's hard, I know. And it is going to get harder, the more you remember. But I have faith. You are an honorable man, James."

Bucky shakes his head dejectedly. "Steve was an honorable man too." 

_That,_ Shuri notices as detachment from a memory. His brain had stored the memory of Steve in some file out back, and had begun to hypothesize as to the purpose of remembering someone like Steve. It had been trained to believe that the version of Steve in Bucky's head was dead. Shuri could imagine just how long it took for Bucky to believe them. If he loved Steve then, it would have taken _decades_ for Bucky to finally give up his last sense of self and memory to truly believe that his poor, blonde lover was dead, and separated from him by time. 

She sighs, leaving out all mention of Captain America from her speech. 

"Do not be discouraged. HYDRA would have wanted you to believe anything they said, just so that you could do their work without any strings attached. Steve _is_ alive, James." 

Bucky gazes out at the expanse of green, green grass rolling down the hills before them. There's nothing else to say, or do. Except maybe wish that he could go back in time and fix what went wrong. Maybe he would've married Steve, in some secret church, or in his mother's basement. With a paper ring and a speech that professed his love for Steve made out of his heart of gold. God, he'd never felt so insignificant and isolated before. 

He hugged Lilo closer to his chest, trying desperately to ease the pain of longing in his chest...

...a longing he could no longer seem to justify.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.


	8. In My Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been a grave misunderstanding during a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timing when I posted this was bad because I'm sure it would've gotten more love out of Endgame's shadow. Lol anyway, I'll just be posting the rest of chapters.

In My Blood

 

Steve isn't granted the honour of fighting in his Captain America colours for his first mission since his arrest.

After a quick and icy hose down, he's shoved into an extremely small effects closet on the jet, and black fabric is shoved into his arms before the door closes. 

"Five minutes!" The rough voice calls from just outside. 

He slips on the suit with fumbling hands, noting how different it is from his former uniform. The black cargo trousers hug his thighs, holsters already in place for several large weapons. The upper body is outfitted with a black and grey sort of Kevlar material, where there's also holsters and slings for more weapons. His fingerless gloves are not equipped with a magnetic harness to hold a shield and that settles him in an uneasy place. Did they expect him to use semi-automatics? How would he protect himself without a shield? 

The door bursts wide open before he can finish the thought and he's dragged out of it and brought to the inner trailer of the jet. An agent slams his fist against a red button to the side, opening the end doors, a freezing gust of wind invading the jet. Steve shivers involuntarily, noting that this uniform didn't provide much comfort and protection for him like the last one did. He's still not given a helmet or a shield.

"We will be approaching target in T minus sixty seconds. Red rooftop is our destination. Nomad will be dropped off at the Blackpoint." 

Steve frowns at the digital map of the church, noting how far the red rooftop and Blackpoint markers were from each other.

"We're not going in together?" 

The man glares at him, curling his upper lip in a snarl. "No. It's your stealth mission. We are reinforcements, _should_ anything go wrong." 

He proceeds to open a titanium chest, filled with handguns, pistols, silencers, grenades and semi-automatic sniper rifles. A deep and uneasy feeling churns in Steve's stomach, his fists clenching tight. 

"Weapons aren't my thing." He states rigidly. 

The man sneers at him, spiteful and contrite. "Well they weren't _Captain America's_ thing. They are yours now." 

"I prefer defense, rather than _offense_." Steve shoots back, equally as snobbish. He collects a swift backhand for it though, his cheek bruising under the sheer force of the man's hand. 

"Belsen!" Another agent grunts, holding the heavy, muscular, beast of a man back from standing threateningly over a floored Steve. That smack shouldn't have knocked him in his ass as easily as it did, even though Belsen seemed like those burly, enforcer types. It didn't help that he was much larger than Steve, and wore gloves made of metal. But Steve realizes that he's become weaker, the cold and heavy feeling of dread filling the pit of his stomach. 

"We need him fully functional for the mission. After, you can punch him all you want." The other man scolds as Steve struggles to his feet. He's dizzy but he shakes it off. The team wasn't there to watch his back like they'd always done. He was alone in this, and he needed to man up. He takes all the weapons Belsen shoves into his hands, forcibly ignoring the repulsive feeling in his throat as guns and grenades are holstered firmly on his person. 

The team of agents, including Steve gather around to review a map of the church. Steve makes out several exit points, each of which are monitored by guards. He notes the parameters of the building, mentally marking down the entrance to the basement of the church which lies hidden behind the brick and plaster altar. It looks like a lab of some sort. Blackpoint is an area just left of the church's bell, below a thicket of trees and shrub. Perfect cover at least, Steve thinks, fixing his communicator in his ear. 

"You will meet us at the red roof point after the extraction is made." Belsen informs him, shoving three grenades into his stow. 

Steve frowns. "Y'know, you still haven't told me exactly what _it_ is."

Belsen sniffs haughtily, before frog-marching him to the open port of the jet. 

"It's in the black canister labelled 'Containment C'. That's all you need to know." The man shoves a plastic card into his pocket- a key of some sort- before shoving him out the jet. 

Guess they'd heard about his lack of self-preservation when it came to jumping out of moving machines. 

 

....................

 

"What are you doing Tony?" 

The question hadn't been put to him for the first time in his life- or for the first time _that night_ either. Hell, Tony had been bullied by those very words his entire life. It started with Howard, whenever little Tony was being too curious and most about his work, then it became his mother's favorite question whenever he'd gotten into a fight with his degenerate of a father. Then his friends at college had asked him the same thing when he'd started going into a downward spiral. And on and on it went. 

He _hated_ that goddamn question.

But Natasha isn't letting up. 

She's standing there, in his lab, with her arms crossed, her green eyes piercing his very soul and her perfect leather boots. She had no right pressing him like this, he thinks darkly to himself. And he'd honestly tried his best these past few days since Steve had been back, to make things work, to act as if he hadn't had his heart _literally_ ripped out of his chest. Okay- maybe that was being overdramatic, but still. 

"I'm trying to manage this team. Or what's left of it. What does it look like I'm trying to do?" He mutters crossly, pouring himself another glass of scotch. 

He hears her sigh... can most definitely picture her shaking her head at him. 

"I meant Steve." 

"Well then ask _him_ that." He sasses, earning a withering look from the ex-KGB assassin. 

"I hate to sound condescending b-" She starts.

"Then don't." He interrupts, the scotch burning its way down his throat. 

"But," She continues in a much sterner tone, "You need to pull your head out of your ass."

"Excuse me?" He demands, mocking her with feigned disbelief. He's being dramatic, he knows but Jesus he's had enough diplomacy for one day. 

"I'm being serious Tony. _You're_ team leader now."

"So what?" 

"So that means that you have to help get this team together. Clint and Wanda and I- we're trying our best here. But we're _outnumbered_ don't you see? Thor is on another plane of existence, Sam's back home, Steve's under Ross's control and Bruce is- ...well, I don't know where Bruce is." 

Tony drops all of his pretense and mockery when her voice drops almost completely at the mention of Bruce's name. Though it was near impossible sometimes, he honestly forgot that other members of the team were hurting as well. Some, just as much as he was. Natasha had been with them for as long as he could remember the team ever being a _team._ He knew she would risk her life to save any of them, his hide included, and that any repercussions the team was facing, she usually faced it first, being the legal spokesperson for Avengers affairs. He had to remind himself that despite his own grief, Natasha was also grieving. 

God he felt like a dick.

"You're right, I'm sorry." He murmurs, shoving the drinking glass out of his immediate reach. 

"We're not _depending_ on you to get us out of this mess, I hope you know. It's not your fault. It's not your job to fix this alone. Not your burden to bear." She reminds him quietly, eyes staring hard down at the floor. 

But Tony shakes his head. "Yeah but they made me team leader. And I haven't been leading as much as I should have."

Natasha shrugs. "Well, technically Ross and the World Court are the leaders." 

"Yeah but they're also the enemy." He says, chewing idly on his thumb, tasting metal. 

"Yup." She nods, taking up residence on the chair he offers. He pats her on the shoulder before taking her hand in his. They've been friends ever since she applied to work for him under the guise of Natalie Rushman. She was a terribly cool person to confide most of his secrets in, and the best drinking partner after Clint. He could depend on her, bet his life on her and he'd be damned if anything happened to her or any of his team mates because of Ross. He needed to wake up. 

"Fury's come up with a theory." She tells him, squeezing his hand. 

"Which is?" 

"Ross is HYDRA." 

"Shocking." He replies, totally monotone.

She chuckles quietly then shakes her head. 

"But not HYDRA as in, the reformists."

Tony frowns in question.

Natasha continues. "He's HYDRA as in, Johann Schmidt, HYDRA." 

Tony seems impressed. "You mean, one of the OG HYDRAs." 

Natasha nods sagely. "Which is why he wasn't listed in either database belonging to Jasper Sitwell or Alexander Pierce. He's still following the old agenda, doesn't really mess with the newer guys." 

"And Fury's sure this is just a theory?" Tony asks, his tone only a _little_ accusatory.

Natasha sighs. "I know you don't trust him. And I know that he's got a lot of secrets."

"I trust him to have secrets." Tony grins smartly, a cheeky-ass smile on his face as Natasha raises an unimpressed look at him. He concedes with a shake of his head. "But he wouldn't be Fury _without_ his secrets." 

Natasha smiles wryly. "His hunches are usually well-informed. We found an old file belonging to Peggy Carter. It was dated back in '45, and one of Schmidt's associates were listed as Richard and Evangeline Ross." 

Tony perks up at that. "Ross's parents." He whispers, his eyes clouded with hundreds of thousands of scenarios where the Avengers had had any kind of interaction with the Secretary of State. 

"Carter didn't have much else in the file, or a reason for why she was looking into it." Natasha adds, as Tony goes to his personal laptop, typing in keys with a practiced flourish. 

"When was the data filed?" He questions, the symbol of SHIELD keying up on the laptop's screen. 

Natasha shakes her head. "She never filed it into SHIELD'S public domain. We've checked. But there's a date written in blue ink at the back of the file. And it's dated- December 16th... _1991._ "

Brown, doe-eyes flick up at her in an instant, wide and filled with shock. And grief. 

Natasha looks away out of respect but she tightens her hold on Tony's hand. 

"That's not a coincidence." He growls, his tone becoming bitter and resentful. 

"No, it's not." She concedes, wincing as he pulls his hand away and kicks out of the chair he's sitting in. He stands there and steams for a while, jaw clenched and the veins in his neck, bulging. He paces a few times before he rounds on her. 

"At least you told me." 

"Tony, Steve had nothing to do with this-" She defends but Tony shakes his head. 

"Don't take his side, you _know_ what he did!" He snarls, glaring hard at the screen that suddenly pops up with a _ding_ on his laptop. 

A single page reveals itself with a list of names running down its length. Natasha frowns hard as the titles flit past her eyes, a result of Tony's fierce scrolling. He's looking for a name, it seems. 

He pauses and just stares. 

"What is that?" 

" _That_ is the star of SHIELD'S precious confidential database, _you know,_ where they keep files that they don't want the rest of us to see." 

The first words to jump out of the screen for her are 'operation' and 'paperclip.' Her eyes widen, gaping up at him as he highlights the name, 'Richard'. Right next to the name, where a surname should have been, the space is covered in a strip of charcoal black, the identity of the man clearly redacted. 

"This- ...that can't be- ..." Natasha finds herself at a complete loss for words for the first time in a long time. Because the implications of Tony's findings were just too mindblowing, _even for her._

"Let's say Fury's on to something. And let's say Secretary Ross isn't as squeaky clean as the world thought he was." Tony theorizes, tapping a few keys. 

"Okay, then that means that Ross is still carrying out his father's work. The only question is, why didn't he join Pierce when he rigged those heli-carriers?" 

Tony shrugs. "You said it yourself, he's following the OG's. He doesn't want to destroy millions of people. At least, not right now. He wants to do it, just slower." 

Realization dawns so quick on her that she has to take a step back. 

"And he's planning on using the Avengers to do it."

A damning silence fills the space between them as they consider the ramifications of their theory. Ross had always rubbed Tony the wrong way, but then again, _so did a lot of people_. He just never showed it or mentioned it until the opportune moment. But if they were right, then that meant that they'd fallen right into Ross's trap by signing the Accords. And by extension, that Steve had been right. 

The mere thought was humbling and somewhat cathartic and he couldn't help but grin to himself wryly. He wasn't as egotistical as most people thought him to be, and he could take criticism whenever it was required. He'd be the first to renounce his own support of the Avengers being put in check and declare that, yes, in fact, Rogers _was_ right about the Accords nullifying their right to choose. He owed the team that much. 

"I'll see if I can find any substantial documentation of Ross's parents in connection with Schmidt." He informs, Natasha nodding rigidly, her expression serious and focused.

"I'll call Fury and Agent Hill." 

 

.......................

 

Steve's made it to his destination. 

The underground lab is buried under six feet of soil and concrete, it's sub-basement carefully constructed to contain very special equipment. Steve's certain it's a HYDRA facility, the glowing blue floodlights at the entrance of the building blinding him momentarily. He's got a mask on over his face, kind of like the one Bucky wore when he was under Pierce's control. Belsen had also made him wear night-vision goggles as the lab would be enveloped in darkness for the early hours of the morning. His combat boots tread noiselessly on the chrome floors, the 9 mm. beretta clutched u comfortably in his hand. 

He's used guns before, _hell_ , he's not a greenhorn or whatever. But it still felt weighty in his hands... the kind of heavy that bore down on his shoulders. The kind of heavy that told him that each bullet weighed the life of a person. But he didn't like bullies. And if the people here were agents of HYDRA, he'd stop at _nothing_ to take them down. 

A guard marches by, semi-automatic clutched in his hands as he scans the area. Steve conceals himself behind a metal canister. He notes the label spray-painted onto the metal surface. _F3-61: God Particle._ He isn't too savvy with sciency terms or connotations- that was Tony's job; so he doesn't pay the canister any mind save for snapping a quick mental picture of it in his mind. 

"It's been four hours since we've been here, Vetra. Can we please leave?" 

"Just wait Brian!" Vetra hisses. 

Steve freezes as two agents in pristine white lab coats hurry across the lab floor. The woman- Vetra, has a clipboard in hand and a pencil stuck in her messy hair. The man following her is taller and not built like a scientist. His muscles are practically bursting through the sleeves of his lab coat. A HYDRA goon if Steve's ever seen one. His coat billows back to reveal a glock holstered to his waist in what looks like a military grade effects belt. Blue eyes follow the two agents as they hurry to one of the desks settled in the corner of the huge lab. It's in a secluded area where the shadows lend to the illusion that it's just an empty corner. 

_It's not._

"Wh- that safe is off limits to-" Brian starts but Vetra shuts him up with a sharp hiss as she begins typing in a code on the digital screen. 

"I know it is! But I just got word from Cranston that unfriendly operatives are in the area. They're looking for this!" 

The safe beeps as the door unlocks, the woman's hand clutching a brown file in her bony hands. Steve frowns hard at it, using the scope of his night-vision goggles to read the bold capital print on the front of the folder. Vetra hands over the file to Brian who frowns at it in reverence. Sure enough, as Vetra goes to reseal the safe, Steve makes out the blocky print from the man's still hands.

 _Containment C._

That's it! 

The scientists are hastily making their way to the back exit when Steve cuts them off, standing threateningly between the enemies and their way out. 

"Hand over the file." He demands, ignoring the growing weight of the gun in it's holster at his waist. 

The man gasps, obviously shocked but the woman swiftly reaches into her coat and pulls out a glock of her own, aiming it at Steve. 

"I don't think so. Cranston told me you'd be here." Vetra growls at him, her poison green eyes glowing at him. 

Steve's facial expression doesn't change, he remains stone-faced and threatening. 

"Cranston your boss?" 

She scoffs obnoxiously, her index finger on the trigger. "That's none of your business. Now go, before I shoot you." 

Steve clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid that won't be very effective. Just give me the file, and no one has to get hurt or injured." 

His eyes catch Brian in the background, the man fidgeting anxiously with the folder in his hands, his body language flighty. Vetra is still bravely holding her own, but even he can see the fear in her eyes, her hands glistening with sweat. He can tell she's currently fighting a battle of morality in her mind. It's something he'd learned on the battlefield. _Something about being a good man and waging war at the same time._ He can see parts of himself reflected in Vetra's eyes and it makes him uncertain of the mission, for the first time since Bucky revealed himself to be the dreaded Winter Soldier. 

"I've got my gun on you big guy." She spits at him. "Any sudden movement and it's a bullet straight through your skull." 

Steve maintains his defensive stance, hands in the air, keeping her under the pretense of legitimately being afraid. He's got to be careful with this; minimum casualties and a mission accomplished. 

"Look, just gimme the file. You and your pal here get to walk away with your lives. And no one has to get hurt." 

He doesn't like bullies and he believes in what's right. And he could get that file in a heartbeat but some morally charged part of him screams at him to proceed with caution. HYDRA or not, these were still _people_ he was dealing with and he didn't believe in excessive behaviour. 

"HYDRA doesn't take prisoners." Vetra reminds him through gritted teeth, her gun cocked and ready. Steve frowns at the implication but suddenly there's a loud shout and a scream, a bullet fires from a gun, scraping Steve's side, causing him to crumple to the floor in pain as his skin sears from the wound. 

_"Get down! Get down!"_

_"On your knees! Now!"_

_"Hand over the file!"_

"Wait-! No!" Steve chokes on all the smoke and dust suddenly engulfing the room, red laser lights flashing on the walls and ceilings, like strobe lights at some mundane nightclub. He tears off his mask, trying hard to breathe but only sucking in ash and smoke. He hears a scream and then the deafening report of a gunshot. 

_"Stop- wait-! No! Don't! Ple-!"_

Two gunshots echo like bombs in the enclosed lab, vibrating hard in Steve's ears. He struggles on his hands and knees, trying to navigate the sounds all around him. He hears a woman screaming- no, crying- em> bawling. She's screaming bloody murder as the men surround her- Steve can make out splashes of blood on her once pristine white coat. Her hair has come undone and her eyes that were once poisonous and fierce, are now wide and filled with terror. 

"Wh-" Steve wheezes but a hand gripping the back of his neck halts any kind of movement from him. 

It's the agent from earlier- ...the one who'd stopped Belsen from slapping him all the way back to the forties. 

"We have the file." He says simply, clapping on a thick, industrial grade leash on Steve's neck. Before he can get a word out, Vetra's sharp cry steals his attention, the woman screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs as Belsen ends it all with a quick shot to her head. Steve, despite all of his military and Avenger training jumps; _not_ at the report of the rifle... but rather the sound her body makes as it slumps to the ground. 

Lifeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not done but I don't know if I'll continue


	9. I'm Surrounded By Identity Crisis, Everywhere I Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets an unwelcome present. Bucky remembers some little things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is one of my favorites because of the storyline.

I'm Surrounded By Identity Crisis, Everywhere I Turn 

 

Tony feels his heart rate go up the minute Fury struts into his goddamn lab in that fresh black leather trench. 

He's been on edge for the past twenty-four hours, waiting for word on Steve. He might not be in a good place with the blonde right now but he was still a part of the team in Tony's eyes. And he'd 've a terrible team leader if he pretended not to care at this point. Truth was, he'd cared about Steve, once. God, he'd taken the man to dinner when they first met. Steve had warmed up to him easily and Tony was getting to know the extraordinary man his dad always droned on about. He'd learned that Steve was kind and really _soft_ in a manner of speaking when compared to what the media and the rest of the world saw him as. He was the _polar_ opposite of the Alpha male, all shy smiles and soft eyes. Things like that _got_ Tony. And Steve was the epitome of everything that was righteous and beautiful and sweet. 

At least until his dark side revealed itself in the form of Barnes. 

_That_ revelation had resurrected a particularly ugly part of Rogers that Tony couldn't seem to get past. And he hated himself for it but he couldn't get the sound of crunching glass from his mind now everytime he glanced at his arc reactor or the sound of Steve's shield dropping to the cold, hard floor as he left with Barnes that day. That shit stung harder than any kind of betrayal by Stane or even his old man. Because Steve was just... _different._

And now...

"Everything's fucked." Fury states blatantly as if in reply, taking up residence on Tony's five-minute-break-sofa. 

The billionaire shrugs. "What's new?" 

Fury shakes his head. "So far there's no way around Ross's loophole. I think the best plan is just to out-wit the old bastard." 

Tony snorts, subtly closing off a window on his laptop screen that was currently running through SHIELD'S confidential database. "Unfortunately I think Ross is too smart for that. He's got plans for his plans, Boss." 

Fury rolls his eyes. "So it seems. How's the team doing?" 

Tony shrugs evasively. "What _can_ they do exactly? We were practically shoved into a corner, remember?" 

"Any word on Rogers?" 

He pauses at that and glares hard at the blank screen in front of him. "No." 

Fury heaves a sigh, stretching languidly along the length of the sofa, his arms folded behind his head. "Natasha fill you in on the theory?" 

Tony nods, scribbling some numbers onto his notepad. "That's what you think?" 

"That's the general consensus." Fury nods, accepting the glass of whiskey DUM-E excitedly brings over for him, much to Tony's annoyance. _All the clumsy robot does is spill his drinks._

"Okay, so we use that theory to figure out Ross's next step. Who's gonna fight with us? We're barely a team now." 

Fury nods despite himself, causing Tony to growl. "More like a fractured, deceitful mess." 

"Okay, no need to rub it in." Tony grouses, tossing a small wrench for DUM-E to fetch. 

Fury sighs. "I'm saying don't count yourself out just yet, Stark. You've still got players on the team. Sam, Wanda, Clint, Natasha- Vision. They're all waiting on you to get with the program. I know shit hit the fan when Steve chose Barnes, but you've got a bigger scandal on your hands. Make time for it." 

Tony clenches his jaw and fist at the same damn time, resisting the urge to sock Fury in the jaw for talking about shit that doesn't concern him. 

"What are you _really_ here for Nick?" He demands quietly, taking the wrench DUM-E brings back for him. 

There's a long pause before Fury responds. "The King of Wakanda reached out to me." He pauses again, as if to allow Tony the time and courtesy to process the news. The man fixes him with a carefully unaffected shrug before raising a brow for him to continue. 

"He's offered his abilities and diplomatic immunity to the team, to try to get us out of this trap that Ross has set for us." 

Tony frowns at that. "Why? Why now? We've been sinking in this quicksand for _weeks_." 

Fury shakes his head. "He's had to deal with a lot of stuff after Siberia, including taking responsibility for his actions outside of Wakanda. The international community is also down his throat to give up Ba- ..." Fury halts his speech as if he hadn't already given himself away. Tony's eyes darken considerably. 

"I suppose he thinks he's doing us a favour." He snorts obnoxiously, arms folded.

"I know things aren't peachy right now, but-"

"We'll be fine without the Black Panther's help." 

"Stark, listen-"

"No, Nick, _you_ listen. I can barely function when _he's_ in the same room with me. And now you expect me to rub shoulders with the guy currently _protecting_ the man that killed my parents?! You're unbelievable." 

" _Look,_ " Fury hisses, rubbing eyes frustratedly. "I know you don't trust him. But right now, my only mission, is to get Ross's grubby little paws off my team. Signing those Accords _was_ a mistake; at least give Rogers credit for being right about _that."_

Tony bites his tongue, tossing the wrench in his hand more out of anger than something for DUM-E to fetch. The little robot happily scurries away after it anyway. He sits and stews for a bit in his chair, purposely ignoring Fury who lies back on his sofa calmly. Okay, so Steve was right about _one_ thing. So what? He was a devious little bastard who valued everything- _literally everything_ over his relationship with Tony. Too goddamn righteous for his own good. 

"I'll give you some time to think about it. You _are_ team leader now. I'm sure the others will respect whatever decision you make." Fury finally says, standing slowly, his voice suspiciously nonchalant. It's not directly condescending but Tony grits his teeth anyway. Because he knows it's meant to be; Fury was good at that reverse psychology bullshit. 

 

...................

 

The sharp prick of a needle, and a _world_ of pain in just a few seconds. 

He's been foggy and blind for hours, struggling to break out of the muzzle that had been forcefully clamped over his face. He's blindfolded and his hands are secured behind his back. The loud, brutish voices of Belsen and the other burly agents echo loudly in his ears, the men grunting and yelling orders as he's uncuffed and strapped down to the chair again. He knows he's back in that experimental torture room again because of the acrid smell of chemicals that flood his nostrils. His eyes burn beneath the blindfold, salty tears soaking into the material, making his eyes burn even more. 

"Never thought I'd see the great Captain America cry like a baby." One of the agents snort cruelly, as tears leak down Steve's face. He's unable to explain his predicament because of the muzzle so he sits there and bides his time. They can't keep him restrained like this forever. 

"Shut up Mason, get the freezer ready." Belsen orders, his fingers extremely warm on Steve's clammy skin. His arm is cramping under the pressure of having not been moved in a while, the unpleasant feeling of blood drawing out of his vein making him cringe. They're taking blood samples from him... _again._ He grunts, trying to fight against his restraints but it's all useless. He exhales slowly, eyelids fluttering as memories of the mission flashes in his head. 

He remembers the two agents, trying to make their escape with the file. He can see Brian's scared face, and Vetra's unwavering glare. She knew they were going to be there, he realizes with a cold feeling of dread. 

_Cranston told me you'd be here._

Who the hell was Cranston? And how did he know they'd be there? 

_HYDRA doesn't take prisoners._

Well that was even more confusing out of context, he thinks. Something was up and Ross was a huge part of it. And Steve wasn't naive as to think that the Secretary of State was an innocent man, but then again, he never really knew the man known as _Thunderbolt Ross._ Nothing makes sense in his disoriented state at the moment so he files away the memories for later when he could consult Tony and the others about it. 

"Are we done with the extraction?" 

_That's Ross, without question._

"Yes sir. The second unit is in the cryo chamber." Belsen reports efficiently, Steve wincing as a piece of cotton is taped to the crook of his arm where the needle had been taken out. 

"Take those off him." Ross commands, his footsteps ceasing as his voice grows closer. 

An involuntary whimper of pain escapes Steve's lips as the metal muzzle is roughly unbuckled from around his face. He works his jaw side to side, trying to lessen the soreness. The blindfold comes off next and Steve has to squeeze his eyes shut as the harsh white lights burn his retinas. Belsen grabs him by the jaw, making sure to dig his nails in before backhanding him sharply. Steve gasps in momentary shock, his lip splitting, blood welling up fast. 

"You did well Nomad. We've successfully retrieved Containment C." Ross declares with a self-righteous smirk. The valour in his tone is obnoxiously exaggerated and Steve can't help but glare at the man. 

"What about the HYDRA base? And the people?" He grunts, nursing his now swollen lower lip, the dark blood spilling onto his fingers, sticky and nauseating. 

"They're being taken care of." Ross answers curtly.

"And why were _you_ there?" Steve directs the question at Belsen who sneers at him, taking a threatening step forward before Ross stops him with an outstretched hand. 

"Belsen and his team stepped in because you were about to be compromised. Vetra was an agent of HYDRA'S and a skilled one at that. She would have taken you down and made out with the file." 

Steve's not buying it. "And the other guy- Brian? Was he an agent too? Or was he just a grunt?"

"Why does it matter?" Ross humors him though he doesn't look amused. 

"Because _your_ men murdered him in cold blood. You could've taken them prisoner." He argues, as two agents walk over to them, silently cutting his stealth suit off his body. He squirms under their unwarranted touches, growling as they slice at his belt. 

"Vetra said it herself Rogers, HYDRA does _not_ take prisoners. She would've shot you and left you for dead to protect that file." Ross counters, nodding at the agents who quickly whisk Steve's shredded clothes away, leaving him strapped to the chair in just his black underwear. It's humiliating and dehumanizing the way they gaze at him as if he's an ant under a magnifying glass. 

"Wh- what is this- _ugh!"_

Belsen deals him another swift blow, snapping his head to the side, making the room spin for a solid minute. His neck bends back hard as they grab him by the hair, a thick iron bar coming up to encircle his neck. 

"Consider this a punishment for your crimes against the world, Rogers." Ross states smugly, hands crossed behind his back as if he's observing a gun show. 

"I- I thought-"

"Looks like you thought wrong." Mason sneers, flipping on a few switches that start up a dreadful humming sound. 

"Fury won't be happy to hear about this. Or the World Court. Ross-" Steve chokes in a last ditch effort to save himself from whatever torture they were about to put him under. 

Ross grins statistically as Belsen places a small, remote-looking device into his hands. 

"Fury _won't_ hear about this, Rogers. You know why?" The man mocks with a spiteful smirk as he presses the remote, causing two metal panels to hover overhead. Belsen grips Steve by the jaw and shoves a rubber guard into his mouth for him to bite down on. 

"I wouldn't spit that out if I were you." Mason quips, "If you wanna keep your tongue that is." 

Steve stares around at the men, blue eyes wide and shocked. 

"Because if you do," Ross answers for himself, "Tony Stark will be our next patient. And believe me when I tell you, Steven, he's not that hard to find." 

Steve's wild growl is cut off by his choking gasp as Ross turns on the machine, electricity surging forward to the metal panels over Steve's head. The voltage is high enough to cause him severe discomfort, his entire skull vibrating with the amount of electricity flowing through it. He's aware of his screams in the back of his mind, but they don't sound like him. He's never screamed like that before, he's certain. It's pealing and cringey like the way people react to nails being dragged down a dry chalkboard. 

"Cerebral output levels are at 5.24% Sir." Mason informs, though Ross pays him no mind. He's much too busy enjoying the fire show going on before him. The once mighty Captain America was reduced to a half naked lab rat, body shivering hard under the pressure of the volts burning their way through his nerves in waves. 

It's over in seconds and terrifying screams dissolve into choked coughs.

"Print the read out and then get him prepped for return." 

Frightened and pained whimpers follow Ross and Belsen out of the room as they strut down the hallway, the _Containment C_ file clutched in Ross's hand. 

 

...................

 

"Hey, quit smokin' that shit round here man. He's got asthma." 

"Go to hell Barnes! No pansy ass little fairy gonna make me waste this Camel." Jimmy Rutherford retorted, continuing to puff away on his lit cigarette. He's leaned up by the cornerstore near their little brownstone town, chatting up some red-haired dame. Bucky and Steve had just been for a stroll around town and had stopped for a break and a cold coke in the hot sun. Too bad Jimmy had to come and ruin it. 

"Say that again biff." Steve growls, stepping up to the man who just looks mildly irritated. He was facing off against two skinnier kids after all. 

"Steve, c'mon, just leave it. He ain't worth a damn." 

Big talk for such a young kid, no matter how much stronger he was than Steve. 

Jimmy gives the girl a flirtatious wink before turning around to give Steve his full attention. "You heard what I just said. What are you deaf? Get lost kid, I ain't got the time." 

Bucky glares at the man with an even countenance, mature for someone his age. They should've known then, what he would soon become. 

"Well I do." Steve sasses, yanking his arm out of Bucky's grip as his friend starts to pull him away. 

"Steve, forget him-" 

Jimmy scoffs obnoxiously, clearly unamused as he looks Steve up and down. The guy is frail-looking and pale, as if he would be knocked over if a string wind blew his way. But Jimmy's heard about Sarah's kid, Steven. Liked to pick fights, liked to stir the pot then run to his best friend for protection. A wuss move if Jimmy's ever seen one. 

"St-"

Jimmy snorts, blowing smoke in Steve's face and instantly regretting it as ninety pounds of furious Steve Rogers charges at him, landing a square blow to his face. 

"Steve!" 

"You little punk!" Jimmy roars, grabbing Steve by the throat, slamming the smaller kid to the ground. Bucky just remembers seeing red when Steve's skull collided with the concrete pavement, the small blonde crying out in pain. He quickly gets in between Jimmy and Steve, taking down the man with a hard kick to the gut. Jimmy grunts out in pain and tries to stand again but Bucky's too quick and lithe. He dodges Jimmy's swipe at him and balls his fist up. 

Jimmy doesn't see the punch coming, nor does he see when they leave. 

"Shit! C'mon Steve! C'mon punk!" Bucky yells, grabbing Steve and throwing him over his shoulder. They skedaddled out of there so fast, the buildings passed them by in a blur. Bucky ignores Steve's breathless protests until they reach the secluded alleyway by Steve's apartment. 

"I- could've... uh- taken him." Steve pants harshly, kneeling over with his hands propped on his knees as he struggles to breathe right again. 

He doesn't miss the suffering look Bucky sends him as he kicks a trashcan, a black cat scampering out of it. 

"Yeah, before or after you picked your teeth up from the pavement?" The brunette boy snarks at him. 

"You frightened Cinder!" Steve cries, calling back the cat that had just run past him to escape wrath of Bucky's trashcan-kicking frustration. 

"Don't change the subject, Rogers." Bucky quarrels whilst simultaneously searching Steve for injuries. The blonde swats his searching hands away with a frustrated growl. 

"I had him Buck! If you hadn't-" 

"If I hadn't what? Go on, say it Steve!" Bucky shouts, his voice echoing in the empty alleyway. 

They're left gasping for breath- _Steve more than Bucky_ \- glaring hard at each other from opposite sides of the alleyway. They've never been this serious about an argument before, so the emotions burning deep within them were confusing and scary at the same time. 

"I had it under control." Steve finally said, his voice shaky, his hair all messed up. There were soot stains on his grey jacket, and some smeared on his face. A typical evening at the Rogers household. 

"No. You didn't! Jesus man, you think I'll always be around to save your hide? Huh?!" 

Steve flinches at his tone and takes a step back. Truth be told, despite Steve being the feisty little firecracker of the two, he was also the most sensitive. And not in a way that was easily noticeable but when things got to him, he would always find himself in that place where everything became his fault, his responsibility and his mistake. He never liked their dynamic, him being the annoying kid that stirred shit and Bucky being the one to drag him out of said shit. And God knows he'd tried to be anything _but_ himself, but the truth was, he couldn't change the way he was. 

And that's what Bucky couldn't understand. 

"Then why don't you just leave?!"

_"What?!"_

"I said why don't you just leave me then?! You've got it all Buck. Cool friends, a great family and you can actually _breathe_ right." That last one is just his little self-deprecating joke, but it still hurts to say it. 

"Steve-" 

"I don't actually expect you to swoop in and save my sorry ass all the time, y'know. They're my fights, you shouldn't have to finish em. So why don't you just go? M'just holding you back." 

By this time, Bucky's hard stare had softened to an incredulous frown as he listened to Steve muttering. The blonde's head is bent low, like it always is when Steve's trying his best to hide his tears. Bucky opens his mouth to say sorry, finds himself walking towards the smaller boy, reaching out to touch his shoulder but Steve shrugs it off. 

"I should go." He says quietly, running out of that alley and leaving a dumbstruck Bucky behind. 

 

* 

"That was the first time we fought I think. Like, _really_ fought." Bucky murmurs, inhaling deep and closing his eyes as a cool breeze blows across the fields, dancing among the strands of his hair. 

The sun is just about to set in Wakanda, spreading an orange glow over the hills. He's meditating- or at least he _was._ Up until a memory hit him like a freight train and he couldn't stop dwelling on it. It was amazing how vividly he remembered it too. The colours came back to him with certainty and he could _feel_ what Buck- ...what _he'd_ been feeling back then. Hell, he even remembered Cinder, with her charcoal black fur and bright green eyes. 

He sighs, opening his eyes as Lilo head butts his side. "Oh, you want to know what happened after huh?" 

The goat bleats enthusiastically at him, hopping into his lap with all the grace of a clumsy baby goat. 

"Hm, alright buddy, buckle in cos I actually remember what happened next." He grins, petting Lilo's head with a soft chuckle. 

 

*

"Steve?" 

The small apartment is deathly quiet for the time of night, the sputtering of an old and rusted fan the only sounds in the Rogers household. Bucky closes the door behind him, locking it with the spare key he'd been given by Sarah Rogers. She'd visited his parents earlier, regretful but desperate for Bucky to stay with her boy because she'd been asked to put in an extra shift at the hospital. Of course, Bucky's parents had agreed instantly, totally clueless as to their falling out. But Bucky would be damned if he chickened out after one stupid fight. 

And he'd been trying to figure out a way to apologise to his best friend all evening. 

"Stevie?" 

Steve's small figure is huddled up on his tiny bed, buried under a pile of threadbare sheets. He's clearly asleep, but Bucky notices the distress in the boy's sweaty face. His angel blonde hair is plastered to his pale and clammy forehead, and he seems to be having a fitful dream. Bucky feels under the boy's neck and sure enough, he confirms that Steve _does indeed_ have a raging fever. 

"Shit." He mutters to himself, going to the kitchen and grabbing a clean washcloth. He fills a bowl with water from the tap and brings it over to Steve's bedside. He soaks the cloth and wrings it out, placing the cool material on Steve's forehead. The boy's creased brows even out before he shifts slightly, sighing at the relief the cool cloth brought. 

"Buck?" He slurs softly, his blue eyes glistening as they open slowly. 

"Hey pal, yeah, it's me." Bucky greets with a soft smile that quickly disappears when Steve whimpers and turns away from him, burying his face in his pillow. 

"Hey, no- please don't do that Stevie." He pleads quietly, stroking the damp hair at Steve's temple. The brunette feels horrible as Steve starts to sob, his body shaking with the effort and energy it took out of him. 

"Why're you here? Where's my ma?" Steve pouts, his voice muffled by the pillow. 

Bucky sighs. "She had to work another shift at the hospital. So she asked me to stay with you." 

"Can get by on my own." Steve says, clearly jilted as he fixes the wet cloth on his forehead. 

Bucky shakes his head. "You don't have to Stevie. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I know I made you feel that way... like you're only causing problems for me and like I don't need you holding me back or whatever. But that's a load of crap and I want you to know that I would never ever leave you Stevie."

Steve glances up at him, his eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. 

Bucky shakes his head. 

"I just- ...I got so scared when Jimmy slammed you against the pavement today that I couldn't- ...I couldn't- ...if something happened to you Steve, I don't know _what_ I'd do. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I'm sorry for that too. My ma would kill me if she knew I raised my voice at you. I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I'm so sorry Steve." 

Steve's frowning hard at him through teary eyes and Bucky thinks he deserves it if Steve decided to never forgive him. Yet, the little blonde boy sits there, picking absently at his blankets. The tears are spilling over now and his shoulders shake as he sobs. 

"It's fine Buck. I was being stupid, like always." He coughs but Bucky shakes his head vehemently. 

"No, not stupid. You fight for what you believe in. That's one of the things I love about you doll. And I'll always be there for you Steve. I just worry about you is all. Cos if the day comes that I can't help you and you really need me... I'd never forgive myself if I let you get hurt." 

Steve smiles- a teary thing, but a smile nonetheless. He's been so caught up in thinking that he was a burden to his best friend, that he'd never considered that Bucky just really cared about him too much to leave. He was afraid to admit to Bucky that his feelings for the boy were less than platonic. 

*

_At least, that's what he'd told Bucky a few days later when they were snuggled up together on his bed, a bucket of popcorn between them._

And Bucky remembered stepping up to the plate and admitting his feelings for the tiny blonde when he couldn't. 

"I told him one day, after another scuffle in the alleyway." He tells Lilo, the baby goat resting quietly on his lap, all tuckered out and sleepy. His hands sift gently through the animal's soft fur, imagining how it felt back then, to run his fingers through Steve's angel blonde hair. 

_God that seemed like a dream._

"He was all covered in blood," Bucky mused with a huff. "Nursing a sprained wrist and swollen knuckles. Any other person would've thought that _that_ was finally it. That would be the time when he'd finally reevaluate his life and _stop fighting,_ no matter how noble the cause. Hm, but he just looked at me, wiped the blood off his mouth and... _smiled._ Stupid bastard looked so smug, I kissed him _just_ to wipe that smirk off his pretty face. Said I loved him... and he punched me." 

The sun sets on the first genuine smile Bucky's had in years, his eyes glassy but his body feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed


	10. Wake Me Up When It's All Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross has some evil plans for Steve. Tony decides to swallow his pride for a few seconds and Bucky just wants peace. Peace with himself and peace with the things he'd done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this story so, no. I don't think I'm giving up on it.

Wake Me Up When It's All Over 

 

When Steve returns to the Avengers Tower, he's a mess. 

His cheeks are sunken in and pale and there are several bruises marring his face, including the dark red, busted lip he'd gotten from Belsen. His hair is disheveled and dirty and he's got a limp. His combat gear was traded out for the t-shirt and jeans he'd worn the day they recruited him for the mission. His eyes, though a beautiful sky blue seem darker somehow, and hooded as he broods all the way to Manhattan. 

Ross and his agents escort him out of the holding truck, his hands cuffed and his ankles shackled like some common criminal. He bends his head and shies away from the flashes of cameras, the media frenzied and fans excited. His face burns with the shame of so many people seeing him like this, but he grits his teeth and holds on to the last shreds of his dignity. _This is what you deserve,_ a voice tells him in his head. It's the one that's been talking to him for weeks- _months_ since he'd woken up from the ice and realised the damage and pained he'd caused. 

_"Captain, what can you tell us about this secret meeting with the Secretary of State?!"_

Ross grunts and rolls his eyes at that. 

_"Captain Rogers! Over here! Do you agree with Tony Stark being the leader of the Avengers now?!"_

Steve winces as the camera comes right up to his face, shying away from it like a caged and abused animal. 

_"Mr America! How does it feel to be a criminal?!"_

Belsen growls at the journalist and shoves his camera away. 

_"Captain? Captain! What are your thoughts on the recent rumors that the World Court is funding a manhunt for the Winter Soldier?"_

Steve freezes at that and rounds on Ross with cold, dead eyes. He ignores the journalist who'd tossed the question at him and continues glaring at the Secretary who casually gestures at Belsen. The enforcer gives Steve a hard shove to continue walking, nearly making the super-soldier trip over his own feet. He trudges on with his brows drawn, his lips drawn back in a curl. 

Tony and Natasha are there to receive the entourage when they enter the headquarters. 

"Stark, Romanoff." Ross greets smugly, strutting into the room as if he owned the place. 

Natasha narrows her eyes at Steve before glaring at Ross. "Why's he handcuffed?"

"Just a precaution." Ross replies, waving his hand in the air with passing interest.

"It's not necessary." Tony states flatly, not hiding his disdain for the corrupt Secretary. "Take them off." 

Ross shrugs as if he could care less before nodding at Belsen. The muscular man moves quickly, undoing the cuffs and shackles roughly, making sure to scrape some skin as he slides the metal restraints off of Steve. The blonde soldier immediately shrinks away from the brute, rubbing his sore wrists. 

"How'd the mission go? I'm assuming it was smooth sailing since you didn't ring us for back-up." Tony mocks, his eyes trained on Ross. 

The Secretary scoffs, half amused, half annoyed as he always was anytime Stark opened his trap. "We compromised. And yes, you weren't needed. How's Nick? Still looking for a way to get his team back?"

"Obviously." Natasha shoots back, her cool green gaze piercing him. 

"This kind of banter can get really boring, really quickly." Ross nods at his agents to leave, Belsen staying behind to escort him out the building. 

"Since this was his first mission, I wanted to be here when we returned him. Nomad is an extremely efficient asset, and as unwilling as you may be to give him up, he does belong to the state. His operatives are completely confidential so, do not expect him to share the details of his assignments. Avengers, Rogers? We'll chat again." 

And with that, he swoops out the building just as quickly and abruptly as he'd entered it, leaving behind a line of chaos in his wake. 

"At least he's taking those bloodsucking media muggs with him." Tony snorts, Natasha sending him a pointed look before her eyes flicker to Steve who's still standing there, eyes on the floor like a terribly troubled statue. 

"Hey," Natasha murmurs softly, squeezing the man's shoulder. He startled out of his thoughts and offers her a small smile. 

"Hey Nat." 

"Damn, you look like hell. Who'd you go up against?" Tony grins, earning a smack from the ex-assassin and a tiny huff from Steve. 

"Is there anything you'd like? Food or otherwise?" Natasha asks him gently but he shakes his head dismissively, ever the pretender. 

"I'm fine, thanks Natasha." He answers softly, keeping the tiredness out of his voice. 

"Well good, cos we've got some things to talk about." Tony pipes up from behind them. 

"Tony, you heard what Ross said. I can't-" Steve starts but Tony waves him off quickly.

"I heard what Ross said. I'm talking about _this"_ He states with a flourish, pulling up a holographic screen before Steve's face. Blue eyes frown, confused for a few seconds about what he was supposed to be watching. His heart catches in his throat when he realizes...

"T'Challa's coming? Here?" He chokes, struggling to stay in his feet. Natasha regards him curiously, her eyes deceptively blank. 

Tony shoots Steve the same look, only less controlled and more sour. "No. Not yet. We were waiting for the whole team to make a decision." 

Steve frowns hard. "No. He- he _can't."_

Natasha gauges his facial expressions silently while Tony scoffs. 

"Why not?" He demands, all abrasive yet cocksure as if he already knew why. Steve avoids his whiskey brown eyes and grits his teeth. 

"I- he- ...he doesn't have to be dragged into this more than he's already been. This is my problem, I'll fix it." 

Natasha's eyes slam shut at Steve's piss-poor attempt to defend his position. It was blatantly obvious that their current predicament didn't affect the super-soldier alone. Everyone who was a part of the team was directly getting fucked over by the Accords. And they'd need all the help they could get if they wanted to get out of Ross's clutches. But she feels bad for Steve, the way Tony's eyes harden at him. 

"I'm sorry but that's bullshit Rogers."

"Tony-" Natasha warns but at this point, she isn't even sure what she's warning him _of._

"What?" 

"You heard me, _Nomad._ He's offered to help us and I'm not above accepting diplomatic alliances right now. We need all the support we can get and T'Challa has that." 

Steve scoffs. "Has _what?_ A superhuman legal team? Because that's the only thing we need to get out from under Ross's contract. We might as well hire _Nelson and Murdock_ to nullify the Sokovia Accords." 

Tony takes that in stride, but his jaw is set and twitching. "You're being naive Rogers. The team is in agreement here." 

Steve's eyes immediately flick to stare expectantly at Natasha and it's _not fucking fair_ he knows that but it's all he can do _not_ to go down and beg Tony on his knees to _not_ bring T'Challa into this. She holds his stare for a few seconds before shaking her head.

"Steve, I know this is hard for you- I _do._ But, Tony's right. The team is together on this, for the first time in _months_ and... we do need all the help we can get."

Tony sighs. "T'Challa has the resources to help us take down Ross. He isn't working alone, we know that much."

"And he's offered to make a bargain for the reacquisition of the Avengers using the world's vibranium supply chain as leverage." Natasha adds hopefully, silently begging Steve not to push them on this. 

_Fury _won't_ hear about this, Rogers. You know why?_

Steve bites his tongue, screaming on the inside yet remaining stoic and stubborn on the outside. 

_Because if you do... Tony Stark will be our next patient. And believe me when I tell you, Steven, he's not that hard to find._

He can't choose, not between Bucky and his team- _again._ He needed time to think about it- ...to call T'Challa and change his mind. They'll be fine, he'd make sure... they didn't need his help. Entering the King of Wakanda into the equation would only bode ill for Bucky. Steve wasn't stupid, he knew that Ross sensed that Bucky had been hiding out in Wakanda. Hell, the story of how he'd escaped with his best friend to the secret kingdom had been all over the news. It would only make sense that Bucky would seek asylum there. 

A flash of panic floods through him and he shakes his head. "There has to be another way." 

Tony flares, snarling at him. "God you're _still_ protecting him, aren't you?" 

He doesn't even bother to ignore it, hanging his head in defeat. He's aware of Natasha's concerned eyes but he doesn't want anyone's sympathy now. He just wants them to leave him alone- to suss out his options before making a decision that could possibly ruin Bucky's recovery. Ross was an evil man, and Steve could tolerate all the crap he'd done to him since his arrest, but he'd be damned if he let Bucky fall into those kinds of hands again. 

"Fine, we'll make the decision without you. You're not a part of the team anyway." 

_"Tony- ..."_

He's vaguely aware of his own footsteps, walking him out of there and straight to the elevator to his room. 

He just can't do this... not tonight. 

 

.....................

 

"I'm going." 

"Sergeant Barnes-" 

"It's Bucky." 

"Bucky, I _strongly_ suggest you stay here, while I visit the Avengers." 

"I- please... I have to fix what I've done." Is the reply T'Challa gets, Bucky's voice small for such a big guy. He gazes sadly down at his feet, clearly afraid and spooked by the amount of people in the room but defiant all the same. He's been doing a lot of thinking lately, ever since his memories started flooding back I to his mind. And the more he remembered, the more the guilt crashed over him in never-ending waves. He could feel the spray of warm blood on his face when he dreamed; and hear the screams of the innocent begging for mercy. It tortured him worse than any equipment of HYDRA'S could. 

There's a heavy sigh from the Wakandan King, causing panic to rise up within him. Shuri however steps up into his periphery, a careful hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you feel guilty, Bucky. But if you go with my brother, there will be consequences. You are a wanted man, despite being innocent. The authorities won't spare any expenses going after you." 

Bucky breathes steadily, his brows drawn tight, his face conflicted. He _had_ to do this.

"I have to do this." He repeats almost robotically, feeling a cold wave of dread as remnants of the Winter Soldier rattles around in his head like shards and splinters of glass. 

But T'Challa remains firm in his stride, addressing him firmly. "If you are to accompany me to New York, I think the best thing for now is for you to lay low. And that means deep cover, _invisible._ The Avengers are not in a good place right now, and I am afraid that your public presence would only give Secretary Ross more power over you and them." 

"But if I gave myself up, Ross would leave then alone, wouldn't he? I'm what he wants." 

"But we do not trade lives here James." Shuri tells him softly. "And, despite your past, I do not believe that seeing Steve right now is the best thing for your recovery. Not to mention, Tony Stark will be in very close proximity to your person which is extremely counter-productive to your treatment."

T'Challa doesn't mean to sound condescending or seem as if he's talking down to the ex-assassin but he has no other choice. 

"I know you are an honorable man, James Barnes. And I know that you want to do the right thing. But, if Ross gets his hands on you, he'll have total power and control of Steve and the others. That is a political nightmare which we do not wish to experience. Please, stay here." 

 

.....................

 

It's the toughest decision he's had to make in a while, Tony thinks wryly as he stands just outside Steve's door, hands shoved into his pockets. 

Despite his tough facade that anyone could break through with a straw, he truly believed that it would be easy to keep the act up. To pretend he didn't care and like none of it mattered to him. He's lost so much of the Trust that had been built up over the years, between himself and Clint, and Wanda, _hell, even Natasha_ and their relationship had started out with blatant lies. And Steve... well, that was another book of lies all together. Because unlike with the others, Steve had actually been the one to lie to him; and keep secrets as if they were fucking fourteen year olds too afraid to make a goddamn move. 

_But_ he digressed. 

He was here to apologize for being such a douchebag earlier. Rubbing it in Steve's face that he was no longer an Avenger was a total _dick_ move and even if Natasha hadn't chewed him out for it when Steve left, he would've felt awful anyway. So, here he was, an apology on his lips and a reluctant smile, waiting for Steve to answer his knocking. 

"C'mon Rogers, ain't got all day." He mutters to himself, startling only slightly as the door immediately opens, revealing a sleepy, bed-headed Steve, wrapped up in a couple of thick quilts. Tony damn near chokes on his own tongue as a smooth, pale collarbone peeks out from the slumped blanket but he quickly recovers from his momentary shock, clearing his throat roughly. 

"St- uh, Rogers. Asleep already? It's four in the afternoon." 

It's weak, but Steve seems to be too out of it to notice. He simply blinks those huge, baby blue eyes at the mechanic mogul, trying to clear the sleepiness from his vision. 

"T- ...Tony?" He murmurs tiredly, rubbing at his eyes.

Tony tries his best not to panic. In truth, he'd just wanted to get this half-assed apology out of the way so he could clear his conscience but his stupid brain seemed to want something else. 

"Wow Cap, going _full_ commando are we?" He snorts, earning a slight frown and a head-tilt from the disoriented blonde. It was earnest and innocent and- _frustratingly adorable._

"Tony wh-" Steve starts but almost bites his tongue when he steps back as Tony barges into his room. "What are you doing?" 

"Just checking." Tony shrugs, fingers tracing every corner and crevice of Steve's humble room. 

The walls were a baby pastel blue, with simple white shades over the large windows and an antique ceiling fan, for decorative purposes. There was a neat pine desk in one corner, papers, pencils and paints littering the smooth surface. Other than that, the only other piece of furniture seemed to be his bed; a California King of course. It was covered with white quilts, and navy blue sheets, balancing out the shades of blue in the room. Tony feels _so_ out of place in such a domestic space. 

"Checking for what?" Steve demands, suddenly going on high alert. But Tony waves him off. 

"For bugs. Can't be too careful these days. Especially with Ross breathing down our necks." 

Steve sighs, trudging back to his bed where he collapses onto it, the thick quilts sliding down his body to pool like silken waves around his waist. He looks so soft and innocent in the late evening sunlight, almost like if nothing had changed and he'd never looked at Tony with such disgust and coldness in his eyes. 

"Bugs?" Steve repeats, confused. 

Tony can't help but grin at his awkwardness with modern technology, even though he looks out the window so that Steve can't see. 

"It's a secret listening device that transmits-"

"Like a wire tap, right?" 

Tony nods and leaves it at that. "You've gotta keep a sharp eye out for Ross. He's a sneaky son of a bit- gun."

Why the hell was he being considerate about Steve's distaste for obscene language? 

Steve watches him quietly for a bit as he paces the room, sniffing for a wire tap. He finds nothing. But he continues to search anyway, biding his time because he doesn't know how to begin his apology. Eventually he realizes that Steve hasn't said a word in all the time he'd wasted pretending to look for wire taps so, he turns around and finds Steve frowning down at his blanket covered lap, red lips chewed on and glistening. There's a genuinely lost look on his American sweetheart face and Tony hates the way he falls for it. 

"You good Cap?" 

Steve glances up at him and sighs, forgoing any kind of response as if he's afraid and unsure. 

"Why are you here Tony? Did something happen?" 

Tony frowns at the blatantly deflective query. He doesn't mind though, he's here for an honest reason... might as well get it over with. "I shouldn't have said that crap about you not being an Avenger. It was stupid of me and, you _are_ still a part of the team, just so you know." 

Steve blinks a couple of times, looking genuinely surprised at Tony's apology, no matter how half-assed it was. He bites his lip gently, looking down at his lap again, mulling it all over in his head. 

Then he nods, speaking softly, "No, you were right. I wasn't thinking about the team. I am now. I know T'Challa can help us, so... I'm with you on that."

He's saying the words with enthusiastic nods yet Tony can see how dead he is inside. Bucky was the reason why he didn't want the Wakandan King involved. And Tony hated the way things had become between the two of them. They used to be so close, even when they were arguing. Now, they weren't even in the same room despite literally only being a few feet away from each other. 

Tony could only handle so much anxiety at once. 

"Okay, good talk." He quips before hastily making his way to the door. His hand's on the doorhandle when Steve's soft voice calls his name.

_"Tony?"_

Shit.

He turns around slowly, his eyes reluctantly meeting Steve's. But the minute that happens, Steve looks down guiltily, playing with his fingers nervously. He looks so much smaller than he actually was, curled up half naked in the soft blue blankets, his head tucked low. Tony kind of actually felt sorry for him, much to his annoyance obviously. 

"What is it?" He asks, trying to sound as monotone as possible. 

Steve shakes his head at first, then his shoulders drop, as if in defeat. 

"Can we talk about... about what happened?" 

Tony sighed, damned to all hell because he _knew_ that was coming. Just like he knew that Ross would screw them over as soon as he got the upper hand. Steve had been trying in vain for weeks to get him to talk about their little scuffle in the airport. And every time he tried, it only made Tony pull away from him further. He seemed to be extremely sorry for his part in the whole thing but Tony couldn't _forget..._ no matter how hard he tried. 

"Steve- ..." He starts but doesn't see how he can finish the sentence. Because he doesn't know _how_ to. What the hell was he going to say? _Sorry Steve but I can't forgive you for what you did because I still dream about it._ Dream about it? Hell, it was more of a nightmare rather than a dream. He could still the feel the arc reactor shattering under the pressure of the shield, Steve's cold blue eyes glinting darkly over him. 

That's how he finds his resolve. 

_Every. Time._

"I can't." 

He sees something in Steve break and it's sobering for a moment, forcing him to take a deep breath.

"But- ... _why?_ " And oh, Steve sounds like a poor little scared kid now, terrified of Tony and his words. 

But Tony shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "Because it's not going to fix this, Steve. _God_ I- ...I keep trying to forgive you and forget everything that happened in the past but I _just can't._ It's in my head, every second of every day... and I don't think it's ever going to go away." 

Steve finally blinks up at him, his sad puppy eyes trying their best to bend Tony's will but the man steels himself. 

"I- I never wanted to hurt anyone; least of all you. But things started falling apart so... _fast._

Tony slams his eyes shut. _Goddammit I do not want to hear this._

"And Bucky, I tried to stop him- to stop things from getting worse. But then you- ...I couldn't let anything happen to him-"

"Steve-" Tony breathes but Steve powers on through his sloppy, tear-soaked apology. 

"And I didn't want you getting hurt but then you blew his arm off and-"

"Rogers-" The name is spat out now, with enough vitriol to rival that of Adolf Hitler himself. 

"-it was almost like the train again, only this time I was losing you bo-"

_"Stop!"_

Steve genuinely looks startled by the harsh and spat-out command, the apology freezing on his perfect lips, his blue eyes clouding with pain. He'd never shown himself to be very emotional ever since he'd woken up from the ice, because he was Captain America then. A symbol of hope and strength to millions of people. What would _they_ think if they ever saw him cry? 

But none of that mattered right now as he sat on his bed, staring up at the man he'd come to love and admire and respect, with nothing but a half-assed apology and no real remorse to show for it. 

"T- Tony..." 

"I said that's enough, Steve. Look, I'll play pretend all day long just to keep the team together. And to deal with Ross. But don't ask me to forget what _you_ did."

"But-" Steve tries as Tony ignores his pleas. 

"Cuz I can't get it out of my head no matter how hard I've tried. You wanna be friends again? Sure, but don't try to 'therapy' my ass into forgiving you. I messed up with the Accords and you messed up with the details of _my parents'_ death and damn near almost killed me protecting your war buddy."

He sighs hard, wincing as he realized how harsh and insensitive that sounded, even though it needed to be said.

"I'm sorry." Steve says quietly, but Tony can hear his voice break. He fights that sober feeling of detachment slowly creep into his chest and it's a feeling he _hates._ He remembers feeling it for Howard every time he and the man fought. And he'd felt it when he realized that Obie had been the one scheming him and planning his ultimate demise. Betrayal didn't even _begin_ to cut it but it was a good start. 

"I know." He finally whispers, before leaving Steve's room, the small click of the door's lock sounding like the report of a rifle against the deafening silence he'd left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was good!


	11. It's Too Late To Apologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky seems to be the only thing both Steve and Tony have in common these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come. Hopefully.

It's Too Late To Apologize 

 

There were a lot of things that some people would say was _uncharacteristic_ of Captain America. 

But then again, a lot of people didn't know Steve Rogers. So it was easy to assume that he was a strong and square-jawed son of a gun, who had a titanium body and titanium emotions. He was, _after all_ a supersoldier, created by and for the exclusive use of the United States government. He was a soldier, above all things, made to take orders and execute instructions given to him by the ironically more powerful men in the black suit and ties. 

But- _again-_ a lot of people didn't know Steve Rogers. 

He wasn't in fact made of titanium and he bled just as easily as the next man. Maybe the only thing that separated him from mortal men was the fact that he could heal so quickly, that everyone would think he hadn't suffered. But he suffered, much to the ignorance of most people. He hurt and he felt pain and he cried; it was just easier for him to do it in the secrecy and solitude of his room because well, no one wanted to see him feel anything. They were perfectly happy with their little Pinocchio soldier puppet and _God forbid_ he ever became human. 

"Begin." 

Ross's voice echoed in his head, daunting and hollow as they strapped him back into the machine for the hundredth time that week. Okay, maybe that was being dramatic but if Steve was being honest, he could barely remember the days as of late. Couldn't even remember if he'd been in Ross's torture room for the past few weeks or if it had just been a few days. With every solo mission, the time had become liquid, pressed and melded into a very long journey through consciousness and unconsciousness. He'd barely seen Tony or Natasha, he remembers Clint talking to him a few... _days? Hours ago?_

He couldn't tell. 

_A shrill scream._

His watery eyes blink a couple of times before he registers that his teeth are clenched hard and biting down on a familiar piece of rubber. His screams don't sound like him; rather they sound like the screeches of a wounded animal. His skull vibrates with the energy that surges through his head, practically frying his brain. His fingers scrabble against a smooth, rubber surface, gripping for purchase but failing miserably. 

Suddenly, the powerful vibrations stop. 

He's heaving in breaths like a half-drowned man, skull reverberating painfully. He feels a rough hand pulling his head back by his hair, his teeth still clenched around the rubber guard tightly. He's trembling and shaking all over as they unstrap him from the chair. 

"Open." A deep voice commands but his body can't seem to cooperate. It earns him a vicious slap to the face, the man's ring cutting his cheek sharply. He feels fingers prying his mouth open forcefully, but his jaw still clenches hard, chattering from the effects of the shock. 

"Open your mouth!" The man growls, slapping him again before ripping the guard from his mouth. 

"Now Belsen, go easy. Remember we just increased the voltage to seventy-four per cent. He's a bit, _fragile."_ Ross warns, petting Steve's sweaty hair gently. It's absolutely disgusting and revolting, the way Steve can't pull away from the touch due to his extremely inebriated state. His body curls in on itself on the leather chair, Steve burying his face in his arms. 

_Why the hell were they doing this to him?_

His thoughts can't even form themselves into a straight and orderly pattern, leaving his logic out of wack and completely incoherent. They'd been shocking him like this for weeks- _had a month passed yet?_ And the only thing it had done was made him more sensitive to certain touches, brightness and sounds. He remembers discussing several topics with the team and T'Challa who'd made good on his promise of help, and the sounds of everyone talking had grated on his ears so bad, he'd been forced to leave the room. 

The feeling was akin to that of a deaf person, being able to hear for the first time. 

Aside from that, he really didn't know why they were doing what they were doing. Maybe it was just torture for the fun of it. Or maybe it was a method of making him much more pliant- bendable to their will. It weakened him greatly and after the sessions he was usually much more compliant to Ross's orders, no matter how much he fought it. 

"Sir." 

Ross turns to the agent who'd just marched into the room in full combat gear. 

"Agent Boulder?" 

"The analysts have just picked up traces of Barnes in Wakanda. They have a full satellite blueprint of the farmlands he's being housed in." 

The feeling Ross gets when he hears the news is akin to that of a final puzzle piece fitting into place. His grin can't help itself as it spreads across his face. Steve's vaguely aware of what's going on but he's in no position to protest. He swore he'd just heard Bucky's name, and something about Wakanda. And that was all he needed to know. 

_No._

He had to tell T- _no_ , Tony couldn't know about this. The man would quicker watch Ross take down Bucky before he ever lifted a finger to help. 

His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, his consciousness fading. Black spots dance in front his eyes and his tongue feels heavy and thick in his mouth. 

_What were they gonna do to Bucky?_

His eyes open again and he sees bright, white lights flickering above him, the ground rumbling and shaking beneath him. 

_"B- ...Buck- ...Bucky..."_

Ross tightens his fingers in Steve's sweaty hair, pulling his face up to stare smugly into his eyes. 

"Hear that? We've just found Barnes, Rogers."

Steve whimpers weakly, doing his best to squirm out of Ross's grip. 

"Think of it as the final nail in Fury's coffin. And yours."

 _"Buck..."_ The name is nothing but a ghost from his mouth, sounding like the rattle of a dying man. 

"Load him up." 

Steve blacks out before any retort could leave his lips. 

 

.....................

The King of Wakanda had been preparing to leave for his weekly trip to New York when he got the urgent call.

Bucky's location had been compromised, and he couldn't stay in Wakanda anymore. He needed to be relocated immediately and to a place where Ross and his goons wouldn't even _think_ to go. The King had listened to Steve's frantic plea, a bit put off by how desperate and scared the usually brave Captain had sounded but he wasn't keen on Ross and his men locking their sights on his Kingdom. So he'd quietly rounded up Barnes who chose to leave his vibranium arm behind for Shuri to fix, and left on his jet for New York. 

_Of course_ , Okoye had some reservations. 

"Stark may be a joker most of the time but I don't think he will find this funny." She states simply, no arrogance or judgement undermining her tone. It's one of the qualities he liked about her- she was extremely diplomatic when it mattered. 

Like now.

T'Challa sighs. "I know this is a terrible idea Okoye. But Steve was- ...I have never heard him sound so... _frightened._ As for Tony, I know this is- how does Shuri say it- a _dick_ move. But he won't accept Barnes into the Tower any other way."

"Accept him? He doesn't even know the man is coming. Come T'Challa, do you really think this is wise?" She challenges, growing impatient with his passivity. 

He shakes his head. "Of course I don't. And I am the first one to declare that this isn't right, but it's the only option we have right now. There is no other place on the planet that we can take Barnes to where he won't be found. He needs to be cared for in his condition. And the Avengers Tower is the only place fully equipped for Shuri to work in, other than her own lab." 

Okoye exhales again and looks out the window, her eyes distant and worried. She was one of the fiercest warriors in the Dora Milaje and many admired her for her ruthlessness. But what made her great, and what convinced T'Challa that she would be his General, was her innate compassion. A lot of people didn't have that and that separated her from the others. It made her an angel on his shoulder, guiding him throughout his reign. 

"Do what you must, my friend." She finally advises, turning to gaze into his eyes. "But please, do not implicate yourself with the team. Tony is still hurting from that war and not letting him know about Barnes is going to unravel him in ways that even Shuri won't be able to fix." 

T'Challa nods firmly as she continues. 

"Barnes presence is also going to be problematic for Steven. Because even though I see a light in him whenever it's about Bucky, that light may quickly fade with how little the man remembers." 

He nods again, considering the key points she's dropping on him. 

"And most importantly, being surrounded by people who do not understand his situation and care little for his well-being, can prove counter-productive and _extremely_ harmful to Bucky's recovery. If he is hurt while staying here, I will make sure that Ross pays for the damages. _Dearly."_

T'Challa looks over at her and failing to suppress the cheesy grin growing on his face. "I knew it." 

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at him, the mood lightened just a little. "Knew what?" 

"I knew you would like him." He chuckles, eyes closed as he rocks back into his seat, highly amused. 

Okoye snorts and shakes her head at his antics. "I do not know why you are cackling like a hyena. I just don't want all our hard work we've put into protecting him to be wasted. That would be a shame." 

Even she doesn't believe the words as she says them. T'Challa takes one look at her and she bursts out into a full-belly laugh. 

"Okay, I concede. But can you blame me? He talks to his goats all day long and plays games with W'Kausa's children when he's not busy planting flowers. He's like an adorable wolf pup." 

T'Challa grins at her but nods. Bucky's really grown on a lot of people, including himself. The man deserved peace after what he'd been through. He only hoped that Bucky would be given the same chance to grow and heal here... 

"A white wolf..." He murmurs off-handedly, smirk leaving his lips as the familiar Tower comes into view. 

 

..................

 

Bucky's defensive, and closed in on himself the minute they land at the helipad. 

T'Challa tries not to let his anxiety overcome his very being as they sit there in wait. The landing pad had a built in transporter that Tony had built himself, mostly for privacy and protection from potential aerial threats on himself or any of the other Avengers. Levels of bright, white glowing lights flickered over them as they descended into the Tower, the soft whirring of the machines making Bucky uneasy and flighty as he stands close to Okoye. 

"I know this will be hard on you, Bucky." He empathized, feeling sick to his stomach at the frightened look on the man's face. His arms are wrapped around himself, the shiny metal on his left side a weird sight as T'Challa had gotten used to seeing him in the vibranium one. This one was the one HYDRA had given to him and despite Shuri's protests, Bucky had insisted on keeping it on in case he needed to defend himself from... potential threats. If he had to face Ross, or if he had to face the people he'd hurt, he'd rather do it with the arm, than without it like a coward. So they'd see him just as he was, and not take pity just like he didn't when his victims begged for mercy. 

"This is only temporary. As soon as Ross is exposed and thrown in jail for the warmongering coward that he is, it will be safe to return to Wakanda, if you cannot find peace here." Okoye reassures Bucky softly and T'Challa feels _some_ kind of relief when the man relaxes a little. Okoye _did_ have a soft spot for him after all. 

"Shuri will come to the Tower once a week to analyze your progress and to help you settle in." T'Challa adds, noting how Bucky lights up at that.

The ex-assassin frowns and tilts his head up at them. "What about Lilo?"

Okoye squeezes his shoulder and T'Challa can swear he sees her eyes become glassy despite the smile on her lips. "I will ensure that he is well cared for." 

Gray-blue eyes grow distant and wary as Bucky huffs sadly, his human hand clenching tight. And it's childish and _foolish_ really but he can't help it. "You promise?"

Okoye nods fiercely as she embraces him. Surprisingly, he returns the hug, perhaps curling into her warmth more than he should have but she doesn't call him out on it. 

T'Challa smirks at him and gestures at his General. "She has never broken a promise to the Kingdom, ever. Not even for me." 

Bucky seems a little reassured by that so he nods, swallowing hard as the helipad settles on the chosen floor level. It's the conference room where T'Challa usually meets withthem other heroes to discuss their next move on Ross. He's hoping they can resolve this issue peacefully without implicating Steve and hurting Tony in the process. Reality sinks in as the bay doors slide open, revealing the Avengers. 

Tony grins, patting him on the shoulder, "T'Challa, good to see you again bud-" 

And that's it. 

_That's when he sees him._

His smile slowly disappears, the other Avengers kicking back chairs and scrambling to their feet as Okoye marches out with James Buchanan Barnes in tow. His head is bent low, almost as if he's ashamed; and he's sort of trying to hide the arm but is failing miserably. His brunette hair is loose and soft under a blue baseball cap- nothing like the wiry man he'd once been under HYDRA. He's wearing a simple blue jeans and a black t-shirt and black combat boots on his feet. 

Things quickly move up to speed.

"Why is he here?" Wanda demands, clearly panicked. 

"The hell were you thinkin' man?" Clint grumbles, his eyes narrowed and his bow drawn. Okoye sends him her fiercest glare and stands in front of Bucky and T'Challa, her spear in hand. 

"Lower your weapons, Agent Barton." She commands, eyes tracking Clint's every move like a hawk. 

"Are you kidding me?" Tony growls, his lip curling back in an ugly sneer. He swore after all this time he'd forget about the pain and agony his parent's deaths had caused him but standing here now, staring at the Winter Soldier in the eye, all those feelings of unbridled fury crashed over him like a tidal wave. He calls for his gauntlet and within seconds, he's armoured with it, the palm repulsor glowing bright blue and right at Bucky's head. 

"Tony, let me explain." T'Challa announces, hands up trying his best to calm everyone. "Put down your weapons. He is not a threat." 

"Like hell." Tony snarls, genuinely shocked at how ugly his voice sounds to his own ears spewing vitriol. 

"Stark-" The King tries again but Tony's Iron Man gauntlet makes that whirring sound again and Bucky whines low in his throat. He backs away just as Tony aims, ready to fire.

"No-"

"Tony stop!" 

Tony frowns hard as Natasha steps in front of him, his repulsor glowing blue against her chest. 

"Romanoff, get out of my way." 

"No."

"Are you kidding me?" The man grunts, his eyes twitching as he glares at Natasha. She's been batting for both teams since the Accords were presented to them. Why should he trust her now? She as obviously loyal to Steve and his pet murderer. 

"Let's hear what the King has to say first. He wouldn't have brought Barnes here if it wasn't urgent." She states, green eyes flicking to T'Challa before returning to Tony and piercing him straight through his goddamn soul. 

"Why the hell would you bring him here?" 

T'Challa raises a hand. "I-"

"Because I told him to."

Everyone turns around at the familiar voice, staring wide and shocked as Steve makes his way limping into the room. He's covered in bruises, pale skin darkened and marred by red, purple and blue splotches. They're ugly, and don't look like they belong there but that's been the cost of his missions with Ross recently. He's not complaining, he's a soldier. The soft, navy blue t-shirt he has on is a little big and the grey sweatpants drag on the floor, making him look like a sleepy kid in pajamas on Christmas morning. His hair is a fluffy mess but his blue eyes are strong and unwavering as he stares Tony in the eyes. 

"You told him to. On who's authority?" Tony demands through gritted teeth. Steve can tell that all traces of the man that was once his friend are gone. Tony only resembles the anger of a man betrayed. And Steve honestly knows that he's not in a position to be upset about it. He _did_ betray him. 

"I- when they sent me to Bulgaria yesterday, I overheard Ross and the agents talking. They found out where Bucky was hiding and-" He stops himself before he chokes on his goddamn misery. His eyes meet Bucky's briefly and it's akin to the feeling of _coming home._ And everything's right in the world once again. 

But then Bucky frowns and looks away and his heart shatters. 

"And what? What, Rogers? You thought it would be a good idea to bring him here?!" Tony barked, well aware of Barnes lurking in his periphery. He's standing safely behind Okoye and T'Challa, eyes frowning hard at Steve. 

"Ross won't look for him here. It's the last place he'd think for Barnes to be hiding." Natasha answers for him, and he sends her a grateful look which she doesn't return. 

"And we're protecting Barnes again, why?" Clint grumbles quietly. He'd been on board with Steve back when Tony had agreed to sign the Accords and then their little war broke out. But in truth, he hadn't even questioned Bucky's role in all of the conflict, much less acknowledged it. Thinking about it now, it was Steve's stubbornness to protect Barnes that led to his and Tony's fallout. And all they knew about Barnes was that he'd been Steve's war buddy back in the forties. 

"B- ...because he's innocent." Steve answers softly, physically cringing at how unconvincing he sounded out loud. 

"Find somewhere else to stow your tin man." Tony growls. 

"Mr Stark, I know I am not someone that you trust right now," T'Challa interrupts, "But I must insist that you help keep Barnes safe. If Ross gets his hands on him, he will have full power and reason to completely own the Avengers. It will not bode well for any of us." 

Bucky watches on with sad blue eyes, his head hurting with flashbacks of Siberia. He hears the sounds of metal clunking on metal, the grunts leaving Tony Stark's lips and his own tortured wails. He feels the man's pain, remembers _that video-_ and suddenly it's all too much. A whimper leaves his throat and they all stare at him for a second as if he'd grown another arm. Steve is the first one to take a step in his direction but he backs away and whimpers again, causing Okoye to raise her spear at Steve who stops in his tracks. 

"Tony-" Rhodey starts but the man simply powers down his red and gold gauntlet and storms out of the room. 

Everyone's left in an atmosphere of awkward silence until T'Challa clears his throat, eyes on Steve.

"I will do my best to protect him in Wakanda." 

Natasha shakes her head. "No, it's- what you said before, is true. If Ross gets Bucky, it's all over for us and Fury. We should keep him here." 

"I do not think Tony-"

"Tony's gonna sulk about it for a few days, which is _understandable."_ Rhodey interrupts, arms folded as he stares worriedly at the door Tony had just exited through. "But my best friend isn't a heartless man. He just needs some time to clear his head. Barnes will find refuge here until we defeat Ross and his court." 

That gets some mixed reviews, with Wanda and Clint being more or less confused about what had just happened, Steve looking immensely relieved and T'Challa sighing tiredly. Natasha keeps her expression carefully guarded though her eyes linger on Steve for much longer than was necessary. 

Steve just continues to look at Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much appreciation to those who support this fic ❤❤❤


	12. The More I Try, The Less It's Working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony always seem to fall into a habit of running around in endless circles. Was there any way they ever had a chance of being on the same side? Bucky remains a thorn in Tony's side. The dark details of his and Steve's tiring relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💛💛💛

The More I Try, The Less It's Working 

 

He's sitting on a soft, but _barely_ slept on sofa, curled up with an Iron Man mug of steaming, hot tea. 

_Green tea_ , Tony had advised while he made the brew for Steve. It was probably around two or three in the morning; that magical time when the world stood suspended between complete serenity and total madness. Tony had been awake- as usual, because the man never slept- and Steve had been restless. Dreaming of Bucky always drained his strength and his spirit, though at the time, he hadn't said a word of it to Tony or anyone else. Hell, he hadn't even admitted it to _himself_ yet. But anyway, there he was, on Tony's sofa, quietly observing the man work while a cup of green tea sat warmly in between his palms. 

He remembered his first visit to Tony's lab, no matter how embarrassing it had been. It was after their fight against Loki, when the city had been cleaned up and the Tower reconstructed. He recalled being totally clueless about most of the machinery and equipment in the room, but Tony had been nice about it, carefully explaining what everything meant in his beloved workspace. He'd shown him the holographic blueprints of his Iron Man suits, and the old sketches of Howard's for _his_ Captain America shield. That had been a surreal experience and the emotion hit him so hard that he'd had to sit down for a moment as he remembered Howard. 

"Almost done." Tony announced, turning back to grin at him proudly. 

"Great! Can I see it?" Steve humoured the man, sipping innocently on his tea. 

"Nope. Not yet." Tony teased, winking at him. 

"C'mon, I thought you said-" Steve protests but Tony waves him off with a flick of his wrist. 

"Just kidding Rogers. Lighten up, look- the 3D imaging is being processed." 

Steve frowns, his cheeks blushing bright because he had no idea what any of that meant. 

"Um, ...is that supposed to be a good thing?" He asked meekly, peering at Tony from over the rim of the cup. The look Tony gives him is similar to an owner doting on his adorable pet puppy. The mechanic sighed and gazed at him fondly. 

"C'mere. I'll show you." He beckons, his voice oddly low and intimate in the quiet of the lab. Steve had eagerly jumped off the sofa, and hurried over to where Tony was. 

"Lemme take that." Tony whispered, taking the cup out of his hands and placing it on the table nearby. Steve was tingling from the closeness between them so he didn't say much as Tony pulled up a virtual screen. He typed some keys and then typed some more, all the while Steve's eyes remained locked on the glowing blue circle on the man's chest. 

_What was it called again?_

_The Architecture- no, it was some sciency something... arc reaction- No! The arc reactor! That's what it was! The thing that had kept Tony alive and kicking ever since Afghanistan._

An immense feeling of pride had bubbled in his chest as Tony rambled on about equations and logistics. Howard had been a great man, but even Steve could see that his son, was even greater. 

Said son, was now giving him a withering look.

"Hey, you listening? Roger- dammit Steve did you even get a word of what I just said?" 

"Hu- what? Oh, yeah, yeah I heard you. The suit is charged by the same thing powering your Iron Man suit and- ...and it'll be able to restrain the Hulk when the need arises." He splutters through a terrible recollection. Tony raises an unimpressed brow at him but then grins that sweet, beautiful grin and Steve melts. 

"Jesus, you have the attention span of a corgi Rogers. Or _any_ type of dog really. You oughta pay more attention to me." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry about it, it's kinda cute." Tony grinned, clearly flirting. 

Steve covered his blush while turning to look at the fully completed 3D image of what Tony dubbed, "the HulkBuster." It was amazing really, the way Tony could create such incredibly skilled machines with just his hands and what was in his head. Of course, Bruce had helped with the programming and biomechanic aspects of the HulkBuster but the idea had been Tony's first. And though Steve couldn't explain it, he'd felt immensely proud at the man for that. 

"I'm sorry, Tony." He apologised again with a bashful yawn. 

"And I told y- oh crap, you're probably tired as hell. And here I am yammering away about this-" Tony sighed, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in himself. 

"No, I swear it isn't that. I wish I could stay up with you to see the final product but-" He paused, realizing what he'd just said. But Tony had quickly recovered from the moment, patting him on the shoulder before gesturing to the door. 

"It's okay, it'll all be here when you wake up tomorrow." 

But Steve had been uncharacteristically whiny. "But I _want_ to see it." He begged, pouting as Tony chuckled softly. 

"Okay, how about this? You can sleep right there while I work on this, and when you wake up, you'll be the first to see the final product. Hm?" 

That was the first night Steve had slept like a baby since he'd come out of ice, the thought of Bucky not even _present_ in his mind. 

He was at peace. 

........................

 

_None of that peace was left it seemed._

He looked at Tony through the glass door of that very same lab, where he used to be able to just waltz into whenever he felt like it. His passcode had been wiped from the system so, not even JARVIS could get him in there even if he wanted to. The man looked small- smaller than usual- as he sat at his work desk, head in his hands. His old, band t-shirt clung tightly to his body, showing off the impressive landscape of muscles underneath. Steve could barely make out the small, glowing circle in the man's chest as he hunched over the desk. His hair was a mess, though it made him look even more attractive and there were shadows under his eyes as he glanced up at the knock on his glass door. 

Steve's heart drops when Tony glares at him, then resumes whatever he's doing, not even acknowledging Steve's presence. It's a terrible feeling, to be ignored by someone he'd once cared about so much and vice versa. But Steve's persistent, if anything. He knocks again and this time, Tony outright ignores him. 

"Sir," JARVIS begins but Tony growls at the AI. 

"Don't wanna hear it JARVIS. Tint the doors and the windows." 

Steve's momentarily shocked when the door he's peering through becomes a heavy, liquid black. He frowns hard at it, as if willing it to disappear. It doesn't. His sigh is burdened with guilt as he types in the passcode Natasha had given him. It _shouldn't_ have been his last resort, to _once again_ betray Tony's trust but, what other choice did he have? 

The lock clicks and the door hisses open, leading him into the lab.

"You've gotta be kidding me-" Tony starts but Steve holds both hands up. 

"Tony please just- hear me out." 

"How did you get that passcode?" The mechanic demands, his voice scathing and his eyes icy. 

Steve has to quickly get over how cold the man's become towards him. "I- I got it from Natasha."

Tony scoffs and it's dry, humorless and mocking. "Of course she did. Y'know I'm really having a hard time deciding whether to just let Ross take over this team or just leave. Yeah, buy myself out of this contract and just _leave_ the rest of you at his mercy."

"Tony-" 

"What? You deliberately went behind my back and-"

"Because I knew what you'd say!" Steve protests, the desperation bright like a flame in his voice. He's tired of this. Of fighting with Tony and having all their interactions end with such uncertainty. Things went bad, that much he was sure about. But they needed each other now, more than ever. He just wished Tony could see that. 

"You knew what I'd say." Tony parrots, his voice low and his tone disappointed. He barely looks at Steve for more than two seconds before scoffing and looking away. 

"Well then, if you knew what I'd say, why'd you still bring him here?"

"Because he has nowhere else to go- Tony _please_..." Steve reasons tiredly, leaning heavily against Tony's work desk. His wounds from the last mission seemed to affect him more than they're supposed to but he doesn't bother to take notice because he's too focused on getting Tony to accept Bucky into the Tower. His head was still a bit foggy from the shock therapy and his eyes blurred every now and then. But he _had_ to keep it together. 

For Bucky. 

_And Tony... if the man would still have him._

"Don't you get it?" Tony spits, "This isn't only about me. It's not about how this affects me- this affects the _whole_ team! Your pal doesn't like or trust any of us. And I don't particularly feel secure enough that a former agent of HYDRA is now within proximity of innocent civilians." 

"Innocent civ- _God Tony,_ now you're starting to sound like Ross-" Steve protests, his tone incredulous. 

"Ross? It's a fact Rogers! He can't be trusted, no matter what T'Challa says." 

"Yes he can! He's been getting help from Shuri-"

"Steve, _think_ about what you're asking me to do! You're asking me to grant illegal asylum to a man who _murdered_ my parents in cold blood. A man that HYDRA'S been controlling for _decades._ And quite frankly, he's tried to kill half of the Avengers already. I don't think I'm the only one that's not on board with this decision of yours." 

"Fine, then forget about me. T'Challa was right, if Ross gets his hands on Bucky, he's got the keys to this Tower _and_ all of us. And if Bucky leaves, he's got nowhere else to go. Ross will find him the minute he's out of this Tower." 

Tony has to bite his lip to keep from responding to Steve's sob story that he _knows_ is legitimate bullshit because it was _obvious_ that Steve loved Bucky in ways that were less than platonic. That's the only reason Steve protected the guy so madly, and though Tony had admitted to himself that he was jealous when he'd figured out their relationship, he was more angry by the fact that Steve would literally ignore the monster his former flame had become. It was frustrating and totally unfair to him because he'd gotten to like the blonde, super-soldier from the short time that they'd spent together. 

But that was all that was.

Tony not wanting Bucky to stay in the Tower was more of a security threat issue, rather than fighting for Steve's precious hand. _That ship had sailed a long time ago._ In the end, all he does, is sigh heavily, burdened and buried under the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

"Just go." 

He refuses to acknowledge the hurt expression that flashes across Steve's sweetheart face and simply downs another shot of whiskey as Steve leaves the lab quietly. 

 

.......................

 

The place is quiet. 

_Too quiet._

There's a serene voice inside his head telling him that everything's going to be okay. He imagines that it's Shuri, reassuring him with her gentle voice and kind eyes. He closes his own eyes and tries to think of her, and W'Kausa's beautiful farm with its never-ending green hills and plains that seem to roll on for eternity. He can almost feel the breeze floating wistfully past him, dancing with his hair and tickling the gorgeous pastel flowers on the hillside. 

A tiny smile graces his face unbeknownst to him, when the image of little Lilo pops into his head. The baby goat had been his tether to the real world in all the time he'd spent on the farm. It reminded him of Steve, small but feisty and energetic. But it also represented a sense of innocence and purity for him, because Lilo was the only one that didn't have a clue as to the _terrible_ things he'd done. And he found that he could cover himself in that blissful ignorance if only just to make himself _feel_ like he was _actually_ healing. 

But then a sharp knock on the door yanks him straight back to reality and he steels himself again. 

"I wish we were not leaving so soon." Okoye sighs, as the door hisses open to reveal both her and T'Challa. 

Bucky softens again, because it's wonderful to see some familiar faces. He felt protected with them. 

"But we will be back, sooner than you think." The graceful King reassures him, offering him a gentle smile. 

"And Shuri?" He asks quietly, unable to keep the earnestness put of his voice. It had only been a few hours but he missed her already. 

T'Challa's smile only widens. "Trust me, she's going to be here once every week to analyze your progress. You are going to become very tired of seeing her." 

Bucky grins at that and nods. "I don't suppose you can find a way to sneak me back on the farm, can you?" 

Okoye's eyes grow somber and she sighs heavily. "If it were up to me, I would keep you there for as long as you wanted to. But for now, you need to stay out of sight." 

He nods again, his smile a bit pitiful. T'Challa takes note and pats him gently on the back. "You will be okay my friend. Your resilience is unmatched and I have faith that you will overcome all of your obstacles. Just remember, we are always here." 

The Wakanda salute is the first sign of true trust between them and Bucky freezes at it, unsure. What did it mean? _Did T'Challa actually believe in him? Was he a part of their world now? How could they trust him so easily?_

"Aye," Okoye agrees, saluting him as well. 

Bucky shakes his head, eyes glassy. "I don't think-" 

"Of course you are." Okoye interrupts, with an amused grin. The 'one of us' part went unsaid but it was understood. 

He sighs but it's light this time and full of relief. He even manages a chuckle as he raises his arms up in the prestigious salute, his fists clenched tightly, proudly. Being a part of Wakanda gave him a new sense of identity, and it was the first step in disassociating with the animalistic instincts of the Winter Soldier. 

"Soon, my friend." T'Challa repeats, before bidding him farewell. Okoye embraces him tightly, before quickly exiting the room ahead of T'Challa, her eyes glassy and her smile strained. The door closes and Bucky sighs, hating how alone he felt so suddenly. 

T'Challa side glances at his tough- as-nails General, a small smirk on his face.

"You have a little something right th-"

"Oh shut up!" She snaps at him, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walks on ahead without him. His amused laughter follows them out the door. 

 

........................

 

_On the other side of the Tower, Steve sits naked and cold in a bathtub, arms wrapped around his knees, tears streaming down his face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	13. I've Loved, And I've Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve just wants the other to understand that Bucky's not the same person he was when HYDRA controlled him. He's changed! But Tony's still heavily guarded. Rebuilding trust is way harder than rebuilding a suit, or the Tower. Bucky just wants to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while.

I've Loved and I've Lost 

 

"I know you're under oath Steve, but you _have_ to tell us what Ross knows." 

Steve can barely focus on Natasha's emerald green eyes, much less her questions. He's all too aware of everyone else sitting around the table, staring at him like some kind of peanut gallery. Tony's pointedly ignoring him, typing away on his phone. The small beeping sounds grate on Steve's unusually sensitive ears and he grits his teeth. 

Fury is seated at the head of the table, his eye gauging Steve's face silently. It makes Steve's skin _crawl_ the way they all look at him. Clint looks just short of bored and Wanda seems distracted. Steve guessed that she was ecstatic after Fury had told her about Vision taking a break from SHIELD work to come stay with them in the Tower. His head throbs again, this time more painfully than before and he frowns hard, swallowing. 

"Steve, you can tell us. None of it leaves this room, I swear it." Natasha tries again, her voice gently insistent. 

He knows she means well but it's hard for him to remember anything in such a disoriented state. He's _barely_ awake when Ross is torturing him, the electro-shock much too unbearable for coherency. But he can't very well tell them about that, _can he?_ Those experiments were his own burden to bear. His personal brand of repentance for the things he'd done, and the things he'd let happen. Both for the two people he'd cared about the most; and the two people he'd hurt the most. 

"C'mon man, Ross _can't actually_ have you _this whipped."_ Clint snorts, not obnoxiously, because that's just the way Clint spoke. But it still made Steve feel like crap anyway. The only thing he can really think of right now, is Bucky, in a room, about six levels down from them. Alone and probably hurting. 

"I- ..." He starts, but gets choked up for some reason. He notices how Tony glances up from his phone to stare at him, so he frowns down at his lap. If he looks Tony in the eye right now, he'd probably burst into tears. 

"How did you find out about Bucky?" Natasha presses. 

"And what _else_ do you know?" Fury adds, still rocked back in his chair. 

Steve shakes his head, his throat tight. "They don't tell me nothin'." He mutters, that old Brooklyn accent coming out of nowehere. He supposes that it's because of his close proximity to Bucky now. He _hates_ the way it makes him sound like a little kid again, with a heart too big and too strong for his frail body. 

"So then how'd you know about Barnes?" Tony questions, his voice surprisingly calm. 

Steve glances up at him before quickly looking away. "Overheard em' talking." 

Fury nods along with Tony who goes back to his phone, seemingly satisfied with his answer. 

"And these missions of yours, are all HYDRA operatives?" Fury questions carefully. 

Steve shakes his head, still looking down. "Some of em' are. Others are just to gather Intel on enemy countries." 

Natasha frowns. "He has you gathering Intel across enemy lines? Alone?" 

Her tone has a bite to it that lets Steve know that she's pissed off. And she has a right to be. Super-soldier or not, crossing borders of enemy territories were a dangerous game and if he was ever caught, Steve would face very serious ramifications, punishable by death and public outrage. Not to mention, the World Court would be in the media for its questionable operations. 

_What the hell was Ross playing at?_

"That's risky, even for Ross." Tony states, confirming everyone's thoughts. 

"What exactly is he gaining from these missions?" Fury wonders aloud, but it's obvious Steve has to present an answer because he's the one executing all the missions. 

"Most of the data I collect are about nuclear codes. One of the first operatives that was assigned to me, was in Romania. I had to collect a file, labeled _Containment C._ They took it from me before I got a chance to read it." 

Tony frowns hard, completely focused now. "Well, C means there's an A and a B, so we know there's at least two more of those out there."

Natasha nods, folding her arms. "Or maybe Ross already has A and B so C was the last part of the puzzle." 

Tony clicks his tongue at her, nodding in agreement. 

"And the facility you took it from? What'd it look like?" Clint questions, the gears in his head grinding. 

Steve shakes his head, his memory from that far back going fuzzy. "I- ...it was a lab. But there was a church as well, above the ground." 

Wanda sits up in her chair. "So the lab was underground?" 

"Yes." 

"And the people that were there, what did they look like?" 

"I don't know- they had on lab coats... but they were armed. They had guns and they spoke about HYDRA." Steve mutters, the back of his skull pounding as he strained to recall every part of that first mission. He could barely remember yesterday, much less for a few months ago. 

"How many of them were there?"

"I don't-" 

"What about their guns?" 

"They-"

"HYDRA only uses-" 

"Okay that's enough." Fury jumps in, realizing Steve's rapidly deteriorating state. 

The silence is suddenly everywhere, and it's deafening as Steve squirms in his seat. He just wants to leave and go see Bucky. Of course, that would be problematic as well because he'd been warned away from seeing the ex-assassin for a couple of days. Isolation wasn't key, T'Challa had warned them, but shocking Bucky by introducing him to so many new faces would prove highly counter-productive. 

As if he'd read his mind, Fury brings up the elephant in the room. 

"Now, we've got to discuss our new roommate." 

Steve's eyes instinctively go to Tony who now seems very focused on his phone. It's not cowardice as much as it is Tony choosing to remain silent about the issue. But Steve still tastes the bitterness in his mouth. Tony hated Bucky, and no matter what Steve said, nothing was going to change that. He selfishly wished that the two most important men in his life could just stop for a second and see that he was still _there_. And that he was _so_ sorry for what he'd done to them. 

But what did that even mean? 

And _who the hell was he_ to ignore their pain and suffering, just for his own self-reassurance? 

"-not happy with Barnes staying here." Natasha was saying, her voice just now slowly coming back to him. He frowns at her but remains silent, knowing that everyone sitting around the table would condemn Bucky to a lifetime of punishment or death if they could. 

"But," She continues, "I really do think that protecting him is key to ensuring that Ross doesn't have full control of us."

Tony snorts but remains silent. 

"It's what _should_ have happened in the first place." Rhodey finally says, the first actual person in the room to support Bucky's plea. "I mean, taking him in after Bucharest was the wrong move from the start, why? Because it's what Ross wanted. Ross has never supported people like us ever since his legendary lawsuit against Banner. Why would he be in our corner if he hated heroes so much?" 

Tony glances at his best friend and snorts. "Please Rhodey, no one likes us." He adds unhelpfully. 

Clint huffs and tilts his head thoughtfully. "How's the search on Banner going anyway? I kinda miss the big guy." 

Steve manages a tiny, sliver of a smile at the thought of the kind doctor. He kind of wishes he'd gotten to know Bruce better, as the man had always been the most level-headed of all the Avengers, including himself. Bruce could probably work out things between him and Tony. He was always good at things like that. 

Fury sighs, chancing a glance at Natasha who remains stoic. "It's been going nowhere Barton. Now if we can please stay on topic." 

"What is the topic exactly?" Wanda frowns, confused. "I thought we already made a decision to keep Barnes here?" 

Fury looks at Tony, then Steve, then back at Wanda. "Well, yes you did. But there are rules for everyone while he stays here. First rule, he's been given full access to level three of the Tower, therefore no one is to enter said level as Barnes is still undergoing treatment and may react violently to new faces." 

"Sounds nice." Clint reacts dryly, looking half awake now. 

"Second rule, after a few weeks, we'll check his progress again and decide on days that he can come out and roam free- well, as free as one can in this tin-can Tower."

Tony cuts Fury a dry and unimpressed look. 

Steve frowns, heart sinking as he realizes that he won't be able to see Bucky in a while. He can't be mad though, still reeling from the fact that they all seem to be accepting of Bucky in the Tower, no matter how reluctant. Well, everyone except Tony who just seems extremely occupied with something on his phone. But Steve isn't stupid. He knows that no one else would have the authority to place Bucky on level three but Tony. So, despite their earlier argument, Steve realises that Tony had indeed come around. 

And it gave him hope. 

_For the moment at least-_

"We're monitoring him so, everything he does, says or even thinks of doing, we'll be able to intercept it." 

Steve flares a bit at that but only Fury seems to notice. Placing cameras and spying on Bucky would only make him less trusting. Shuri hadn't been monitoring him like some kind of animal in a cage. This would damage any kind of chances of Bucky's progress. 

"Shuri says he's been getting better. There's no need to monitor him-" He protests but Tony stops him. 

"This is the only condition that everyone agreed on. If you want to protect the Manchurian Candidate, _this_ is the only way he gets to stay in the Tower." The genius dictates, his voice sharp and his tone final. 

Wanda sighs sadly as she squeezes his shoulder gently. "It's better to keep an eye on him." 

"A lot safer as well." Rhodey adds, even though he can see how it kills Steve to watch them all treat his best friend like the monster HYDRA had turned him into. 

"It's better than the alternative, Steve." Natasha tells him softly, picking up on his reluctance. 

He wished there were more alternatives. 

 

.....................

 

It's easy to get bored when surrounded by nothing but formal chrome walls and fancy plasma chandeliers. 

He misses the wide, open fields of Wakanda and the wind that used to ripple through his clothes as he sat upon the crest of the hill with nothing to keep him company but Lilo in his lap and his vivid memories. He catches beautiful glimpses of the sun through the shades covering the bay window but it's nothing close to what W'Kausa's farm felt like. The pure, naked freedom which he felt was gone, replaced by metal and shadows and _confinement._

A darker, more _sinister_ part of him called to those feelings, revelling in its coldness. It was highly reminiscent of the Winter Soldier and reminded him of just how close they'd become since he'd turned into HYDRA'S cyborg puppet. Losing a part of who he was meant gaining the Winter Soldier. And whatever Shuri did, Bucky knew he would never ever be _completely_ free from _him._ The Winter Soldier was very much his own Frankenstein's monster; ugly and dangerous but secretly longing for the pain of emotion and compassion. 

Only Shelley's mastery was her fictional characters- ...HYDRA'S was real. 

And HYDRA'S monster, was _him._

He quietly took in the silver accents in the room, despising how _modern_ it looked. There were rich, expensive-looking furniture accessorizing every room he'd explored thus far. There was a huge dining hall, meant obviously not for one person alone but, the team he assumed. The kitchen was clean and accented with white marble tiles, the pantry and fridge stocked full of food. His stomach grumbles but he bed down his hunger in favour of scoping out his new landscapes. One common thread that he picked up on was how impersonal it all seemed. 

He thought the Avengers were the greatest heroes on the planet. A bunch of goody-two-shoes superbeings who fought crime and kicked back to watch movies on a Saturday night. On the news, they often seemed very comfortable with each other, relying on their mutual trust to save the world and all that. But then he remembered; _Captain America._

The blonde man who'd once been his dark side's mission. The one who saved him from the World Court's clutches. He'd somehow broken past year's of brainwashing and had brought him back to life. He guessed that _some_ part of him would always be connected to the blonde. But that didn't stop him from having his reservations. The Steve Rogers _he_ remembered wasn't some patriotic punchline who had more muscles than necessary and dressed in a corny, showgirl suit. 

_No._

That was all Captain America and his facades. All his stupid lies and shame hidden beneath a stupid costume-

_No- wait..._

That was what HYDRA had told him. 

He frowns hard, metal fingers crushing the mahogany backrest of the dining chair as his confusion worsened. When he confused his own thoughts with those of the Soldier's, it made him angry. It meant that he was still under HYDRA'S control and that feeling was one of the worse he's ever felt. In Wakanda, it usually set him back a few steps, and he felt as if all Shuri's work was being wasted. But the she'd smile that gentle smile at him, hold his hand and tell him that they had all the time in the world. And as childish as it sounded, her words actually made him feel better, comforted. 

He wished she could be here with him now. 

He wished he wasn't so alone.

*

His heavy sigh practically echoes in the quiet room as he slowly makes his way back to the bathroom. He hated sleep these days but it was something his body was screaming at him for. And he found his resistance unusually low at the moment. So, without much protest or thought, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the _violently_ modern shower stall. Seriously, he'd seen crazy wealth in Wakanda sure, but Shuri had been cautious and had kept him mostly in the natural spaces. 

In the Avengers Tower, everything seemed to run on future. 

A memory of Howard Stark's expo flashed through his head and he reaches a hand out fast to stop from slipping on the tile. A small, pained whine releases reluctantly from his throat and he clenches his eyes shut. Every memory he'd had of Howard was _riddled_ with immense, unbearable pain. Every single thought of the man was marred by HYDRA and images of blood and broken necks and corpses. 

_I'm not him..._ His other consciousness provides and he _knows_ that's James talking. 

Shuri had told him to listen to James. 

A single tear rolls down his face, becoming lost in the icy water that cascades down his head from the shower. He runs his metal fingers through his long hair, the appendages getting stuck in wet, knotted up strands. He hates this hair. 

It reminds him of the Soldier. 

_"Buck c'mon, I can't go!"_

The familiar voice drags him back to a time that was sepia-coloured and lost to the decades. 

It's another memory. 

_"Can't? Or won't?"_

Steve had rolled his pretty blue eyes at him then, looking away shamefully. There was another reason why he didn't want to go to the Stark Expo with him and Bucky would be damned if he didn't make it his business to find out why. 

"I just can't okay..." Steve protested weakly but Bucky just gave him one of those unimpressed looks. 

"Stevie, c'mon it'll be fun." He grinned, already dressed real nice like a proper gentleman going on a date. Steve on the other hand, looked like a homeless child. He was still in his striped pj's and practically drowning in a soft white t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for him. 

"Why don't you go on without me. I'll be fine." 

Bucky sighed, his face dropped in disappointment. "Stevie-"

"Stop calling me that, Buck." Steve grumbled. "I don't have the money to go to the expo anyway. And I'm sure you'll be plenty occupied with the girls." 

Bucky rolled his eyes at the dumb blonde standing awkwardly against the doorframe, eyes downcast and head bent low like those puppy dogs that you felt sorry for. He couldn't help the stupid grin gracing his face. 

"Oh my God Steve, _that's_ what you're worried about? The money? And the girls?" He snickered, earning a sharp punch to the shoulder. 

"Ow!" 

"No, I'm not. Shut up Buck!" Steve muttered but he still couldn't meet Bucky's eyes. There was some truth to what the brunette had been saying then. 

Bucky did his best to reign in his laughter and amusement and softened his grin to a genuine smile. 

"I _am_ serious punk." He said finally, his tone soft and gentle, only for Steve. 

This had been exactly two weeks after he'd told Steve about his feelings for him. After Steve had punched him and then admitted that he'd felt the same way too. They'd been busy with their own lives as usual, but Steve had been quieter than usual. He was _barely there_ in conversations with Bucky and when he did speak, his tone was short and clipped. Bucky had tried not to take it to heart but- Steve refusing to go to a Stark Expo with him was the limit. 

"What's been going on with ya punk?" He'd tried to keep the melancholy out of his voice but failed miserably. 

"Nothin' Buck." Steve answered quietly, his voice reflective of how Bucky felt. 

"Bullshit." Bucky frowned, pushing Steve back into his living room, slamming the front door shut. 

"Buck- what the hell?!" Steve protested, nearly falling over the small coffee table in the center of the room. Strong hands gripped him by the shoulders to steady him, thumbs digging firmly into his collarbones. 

"Is this about- ...about what I told you?" Bucky questioned, like a police officer taking down a report. "Because if I made you uncomfortable Steve, you gotta let me know." 

Steve frowned up at him and shook his head. "No, no th- ...that's not it-" 

His stutter seemed unconvincing to Bucky who released his shoulders and took a step back. 

"It _is_ , isn't it?" 

Steve paled. "No! I swear it's not- ...it's not you Buck." 

"Then what is it?" Bucky demanded, maybe a bit too harshly because Steve immediately closed in on himself. 

"I don't regret anything you told me." The blonde finally revealed, curling up on his ratty, old couch, head in his hands. 

Bucky felt instant regret for pushing Steve and shakes his head at himself before going to join his tiny friend on the couch. He expected Steve to flinch away from his touch like a hissy cat but instead, the blonde nuzzled into his open arms, resting his head on Bucky's broad chest, legs draped halfway on his thigh. He fixed Steve so that he was sitting on his lap, the boy's shaking body closer than it had ever been. He felt tears soak into the fabric of his shirt and petted Steve's soft hair gently. 

"I'm sorry birdie." He apologized, resting his chin on the top of Steve's head. 

"It's fine." Steve muttered, voice muffled by Bucky's chest. "Didn't do anything wrong." 

"I feel like I did. And I can't fix it if you don't tell me bird." Bucky sighed, pressing a gentle, almost timid kiss to Steve's temple. 

Steve pushed away from his chest to look at him properly, huge blue eyes blinking a few times. "You didn't. It was me." 

Bucky frowned. "What?" 

Steve gulped slowly. "I'm the one who messed up. I know you hate when I do this but _seriously_ Buck. You could have any of the prettiest dames in Brooklyn to take on a date to Stark's Expo and you choose to ask me? How blind are y-" 

Bucky shut Steve up with a finger on his lips, his other hand supporting the back of Steve's head as if he were a baby. He shifted to pull away but Bucky held him steady, before pressing soft lips to his. Steve's frozen for a minute or two, his eye wide and surprised. Then he opened his mouth and allowed Bucky entry, eyes slipping closed as he gave in to the pleasurable thrumming going through his body. Bucky hummed softly and the sound _vibrated_ in his throat, sending small thrills of arousal down his belly. 

When Bucky pulled away, he followed like a hungry kitten but was held back by a firm hand on his chest. 

_"Buck-"_ He whispered, his voice thick and syrupy, eyes blown wide, heat building between his thighs. 

Bucky smiled sweetly at him, petting his hair gently. "Don't you ever say that about yourself again. Goddammit I love you Steve Rogers. So _please_ , let me take you out on a proper date." 

Steve's beautiful smile vanishes within seconds when he opens his eyes. He finds the Winter Soldier staring back at him. His gray-blue eyes are dark and sad, filled with an untold terror that makes him look more like a scared child, rather than a lethal assassin. Bucky reaches out his metal hand, touching the man he sees in the mirror. It's obviously his reflection but he jerks slightly anyway, when the Soldier's hand reaches out to him as well. 

"M- ...my name, is James." 

His voice is barely a whisper, but it's deafening in the hollow bathroom. 

"James. Buchanan." A shallow breath. 

_"Barnes."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy. I saw Endgame and... well let's just pretend it never happened. It'll sink in later for me but, not right now. Much love! Sam_haine


End file.
